


Place to Be

by alienwrites



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin don't know shit about fuck, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Light Angst, Luke Skywalker is a sweet boy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2 Spoilers, and that's that on that, this is real lighthearted my friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienwrites/pseuds/alienwrites
Summary: “You mean— train with the magic stuff?” Din wiggled his fingers ineffectually to emphasize his point.The Jedi’s mouth twitched. “The Force, yes.”“I don’t think you’d have any luck with me.” He said unselfconsciously, “I don’t think I’m like you and the Kid. I’m not— you know…”“Force-sensitive?” The Jedi finished his thought for him, voice warmed with good humor. “No, I quite agree. I think, and I do mean this in the kindest of terms, that you are the least Force-sensitive person I’ve ever met.”“Thank you,” Din replied.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 89
Kudos: 737





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written in my life. I know very little about Star Wars. Like, bare minimum. I just love this sweet dad and his space wizard husband and I needed to get this out of my head. Enjoy.

It had been nearly six months since Grogu left with the Jedi. Din was fine, really, if he ignored the gaping well of sadness that ached in his chest any time he thought of the Kid. And he was getting very good at ignoring it. Mostly.

Upon leaving the Imperial light cruiser, Cara had offered him a job on Nevarro. Not a Republic job, necessarily, but Republic adjacent. Din had considered it, but eventually declined. In hindsight, he may have benefitted from having something to do on a regular basis, not to mention a regular paycheck. But he made enough on bounties, of which he’d taken several— perhaps too many, but who’s counting. After two months he’d made enough to buy himself a new ship.

It wasn’t new, exactly, in fact quite the opposite. It was called the _Trident_ , which he wasn’t really sure he liked. But it was pre-Empire and had guns, room for him to live in, and was maneuverable enough for the flashy getaways he was so fond of. It was no Razor Crest, but it would do.

So he took bounties, stocked the _Trident_ with the essentials, and slowly rebuilt his little armory. The only other point of concern for him was the Darksaber. Of course, he hadn’t known it was a concern until some misguided thief on a backwater moon had tried to knife him for it. It was like the flood gates had opened after that, and over the course of a couple weeks he’d had no less than seven individuals try to nab the thing. It was one thing to be stuck with it, and subsequently the rule of Mandalore, in an abstract sense. It was quite another to be batting away covetous grifters at every turn.

Following these incidents, he’d tried to get in contact with Bo-Katan again. Perhaps, he thought, distance and time had changed her mind. Maybe she’d just take it off him. He was mistaken. Four and a half months had done absolutely nothing to assuage her frustration. She had cursed him out quite colorfully before demanding that he “learn how to wield the saber properly, and grow a damn pair” before he came back to her on the subject.

Din found her response quite rude, but not unwarranted. He really didn’t know how to wield the sword properly. It wasn’t for lack of trying: every week or so, when he had a bit of time between bounties, he’d land the _Trident_ out in the middle of nowhere and try out a few moves with the saber. But ineffectually waving the thing around wasn’t getting him anywhere, not that he really thought it would. He could potentially chalk it up to his heart not being in it, but it was more than that. Despite its sleek appearance, the saber was heavy. Not physically heavy, necessarily, but there was something keeping him from wielding it naturally. Like his hands on the hilt felt clumsy regardless of how strong his grip was, and swinging it felt like moving through water.

Eventually he gave up. Certainly Bo-Katan’s patience was limited, and when it finally ran out she’d find him and take it. Then he’d be rid of the damn thing and move on. Until then it sat in a little storage cupboard on his ship, locked safely away from any sticky fingers.

It was only about a week after that that the Jedi appeared.


	2. Part I

Din had been sitting by himself in a cafe for over an hour. What, exactly, he had planned to do there was beyond him. Well, that wasn’t true. He had originally planned on meeting a Guild commissioner to pick up a bounty or two, but the commissioner never showed. With no concrete plans for the rest of the day, and no pressing issues to take care of, he’d sat on a little stool in the corner and transitioned aimlessly between people-watching and mentally mapping the wood grain of the table in front of him.

“You’re not an easy man to find, you know.”

The voice snapped Din from his reverie. He’d been thinking, only partially hypothetically, about whether it was against the Creed to stick a very long straw under his helmet so he could order a drink in public.

His eyes broke contact with the cafe table, finding the familiar silhouette of the Jedi standing across from him. A rush of altogether unpleasant thoughts rushed his head: _the last time I saw you, you took my Son. Where is he. Why are you here. Something happened to him. He’s hurt he’s dead he’s_ — the swooping dread hit him so hard in the stomach he felt dizzy. He tried to voice at least one of the multitude of questions which clamored for supremacy in his head. A choked out “you,” was all he could come up with.

“Hello,” the Jedi looked serene, just as he had that day on the Imperial cruiser. “I hope I didn’t startle you. May I sit?” He gestured to the other stool at the table.

Din nodded. “Yeah, no— uh, you didn’t. Startle me.”

The Jedi sat, folding one bare hand over a gloved one on the table. “You’re almost certainly wondering why I’m here.”

“I am.” Din said, finally finding his voice, “where’s the Kid—Grogu. Is he ok? Is everything alright?”

The Jedi held out a placating hand. “Yes, he’s just fine. Great, I should say. I left him this morning with my sister. She promised to take him hunting for frogs in the garden.”

Din released a shaky breath. The panic that had been building like a storm cloud in chest began to ebb. “Thank you,” he wasn’t sure what exactly he was thanking the other man for, but it felt right to say.

“Of course,” the Jedi nodded. “But I suppose I should cut right to the chase: I came here to make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

He hummed in assent. “I am largely cut off from major galactic news these days, but word has reached me that there’s a bounty on your head.”

Din blinked. That wasn’t necessarily surprising, but it did worry him that he hadn’t heard anything about it yet. “The Galaxy is hardly short of people who don’t like me very much,” he said.

“Well, the bounty isn’t just for you.” The Jedi continued, “but for a weapon you carry. The Darksaber.”

“I don’t carry it.” He muttered, “I haven’t looked at it in weeks.”

“Regardless, it’s a highly coveted item. And it is the general opinion that it would be easier to win it from you than it would have from Moff Gideon.”

“But I bested Gideon for it,” he said. It wasn’t prideful, simply a statement of truth.

The Jedi’s mouth quirked in a politely rueful smile. “That fact seems to have slipped the minds of many a bounty hunter. As I understand it, the reward is quite steep.”

Din hummed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I suppose I feel partially responsible.”

Din raised a skeptical eyebrow. He knew the Jedi couldn’t technically see it, but he had a feeling the expression wasn’t lost on him all the same. “You didn’t force me to take the sword.”

“No,” the Jedi conceded, “but it didn’t occur to me that you could use some help with it. It carries quite a reputation, not to mention the right to sit on the throne of Mandalore. You were bound to have challengers eventually. And Lightsabers are not exactly the most intuitive weapon. Not to everyone, at least.”

Din narrowed his eyes under his helmet. “What makes you think I need help?”

“Don’t you?”

The Jedi wasn’t being condescending, that much was clear. His body language was reserved, but easy to read, and his voice held no secret meaning. And Din wasn’t too proud to admit he’d been shit out of luck with the damn thing so far.

“I suppose I do.”

The Jedi smiled, “then I’d like to make you an offer.” He said, “the price on your head will draw mercenaries from all corners of the galaxy until you’re able to wield the saber against a legitimate challenger. In the meantime, come back with me to the temple. It’s remote, and more than well shielded against anybody looking to collect your bounty. I can train you to use the Darksaber, and you can be reunited with your Child.”

Din tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. It sounded like a nice proposition. Almost too nice. “I thought the Jedi weren’t supposed to have attachments.” He said, “wouldn’t having me there with Grogu go against your Code? Open him up to… whatever it is you’re all worried about? I won’t come if it would put him in more danger.”

“Avoiding attachments was the old way, yes.” The Jedi had the good grace to look bashful. “The rule was put in place out of fear of the Dark side; that desire or love for another person opened one up to corruption. And for that reason, younglings were separated from their families as soon as possible, and denied emotional fulfillment. But I believe the practice was misguided, not to mention cruel. One cannot wield the Force for the Light if they are imbalanced. And being cut off from love— unselfish, devoted love— causes nothing but anguish. I have it on good authority that love can be a more powerful conduit for the Force than fear. And I’m the only Jedi left, anyway. Codes can be rewritten.”

Din nodded slowly, and let the Jedi’s words sink in. It made sense, he supposed. It was certainly much more in line with his Creed. But a hot ball of uncertainty still squirmed around in his gut.

“I don’t know that I can say anything to completely assuage your suspicion of me.” The Jedi said, sensing Din’s unease. “But I gave you my word that I would protect your Child with my life, and I meant it. And I don’t give my word lightly.” His expression softened just a hair, and he seemed to look past the darkened visor of Din’s helmet, directly into his eyes. “I can sense that that means something to you.”

Din nodded. It did.

“I’ll go with you.” He conceded, “and I accept your offer to train me with the sword.”

The Jedi sat back, a politely pleased expression gracing his face. “Wonderful, I’ll—“

“But I want to make one thing clear.” Din interjected firmly, “the Kid takes precedent: his training comes first. There’ll be no concessions made for me on that front.”

If Din had expected the Jedi to take offense at his tone, he was mistaken. If anything, the other man seemed even more pleased.

“Of course not.” He replied, “Grogu and I have established a nice routine, it shouldn’t be any trouble to work you in. You could even join us, if you wish.”

“You mean— train with the magic stuff?” Din wiggled his fingers ineffectually to emphasize his point.

The Jedi’s mouth twitched. “The Force, yes.”

“I don’t think you’d have any luck with me.” He said unselfconsciously, “I don’t think I’m like you and the Kid. I’m not— you know…”

“Force-sensitive?” The Jedi finished his thought for him, voice warmed with good humor. “No, I quite agree. I think, and I do mean this in the kindest of terms, that you are the least Force-sensitive person I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you,” Din replied.

“But you never know, you might find some of it helpful.” He shrugged, “you don’t have to decide right this moment.”

Din hummed in response. He didn’t know what exactly went into Jedi training, but it all seemed a bit too mystical for his liking. Training with the laser sword, however, that he could do. Learning to wield a new weapon was as intuitive to him as breathing. It didn’t matter that he’d been mostly unsuccessful with the thing so far. He’d simply lacked a teacher who knew what they were doing.

“Unless you have any business to attend to, we may as well make our way out.” The Jedi stood from the table, folding his arms together in the billowing sleeves of his cloak.

“Alright,” Din stood as well. “Everything I need is on my ship. We can go now.”

“Good.” The Jedi smiled kindly, “Grogu will be delighted to see you. He thinks of you often.”

Din couldn’t help the fond smile that bloomed on his face. He coughed a little around the lump in his throat. “Me too.”


	3. Part II

Din returned to the _Trident_ , and the Jedi to his X-wing. Before they parted, the Jedi gave him a data fob, and explained the complicated flight path he’d loaded onto the little device. “It's meant to keep anyone from tracking us.” He said, “the jumps are calculated to cause interference with each other if the flight nav computer doesn’t have the path preloaded.”

It made sense to Din. When he plugged the fob into his nav computer he saw the intricate web of hyperspace jumps, leading to a little uncharted moon called _Ovec_. Despite the labyrinthine trail they were following, the calculated arrival time was less than two days.

As they entered hyperspace, Din closely following the Jedi, the full reality of the situation finally occurred to him. He was going to see Grogu. The fact that he could count mere hours before he would reunite with his son made his chest swell with a giddy, achingly intense joy. He’d missed the Kid more than anything, and several times in the past six months he’d wanted nothing more than to tear the galaxy apart just to find him. But he knew it wouldn't have been right. As much as it hurt, the Kid had clearly wanted to go with the Jedi. And Din respected that choice. More than anything Din might want, the Child’s well-being came first.

The trip to _Ovec_ felt simultaneously endless, and altogether too fast. Din spent most of the time in hyperspace compulsively checking and rechecking every inch of his armor. He took it off completely, polished the beskar, conditioned the leather, scoured every groove, and calibrated every instrument. When he’d done that twice over, he moved on to his armory. He cleaned each weapon more thoroughly than they’d ever been cleaned in their life. Eventually he resigned himself to staring blankly into the star-streaked light of hyperspace, and mentally tallied the number of ways he knew how to kill a man.

He and the Jedi limited their contact between jumps, so as to avoid the risk of anyone picking up on a stray signal, so it surprised Din when his comm link suddenly crackled with noise.

“We’re here,” the Jedi said, as they exited the last jump. “Follow me for the descent, I excavated a stable landing area for your ship.”

Din answered in the affirmative and followed closely as the X-wing made its way down through the moon’s atmosphere. Why ‘excavation’ measures were necessary in the first place became evidently clear as they neared _Ovec’s_ surface. 

The _Trident’s_ hull burst through heavy cloud cover to reveal a densely forested expanse, pockmarked by crystal blue lakes. The blanket of dark green vegetation lay across a rocky, mountainous landscape; stark white peaks broke high past the tree line, reflecting the overcast midday glow off of their sheer cliff faces. The far horizon was rimmed with the dark maw of a vast ocean coastline.

At first glance, it looked completely uninhabited. However as they neared their destination, Din noticed crumbling stone ruins dotting the ground, just barely visible through the tree canopy. The landing site became clear as they approached: the dusty, white-gravel clearing stuck out like a beacon where it flanked the shore of a small lake. The propulsion of their ship’s engines sent ripples dancing across its surface as they touched down on the moon.

Din could smell the crisp sweetness of the outside air before he even opened the hatch.

He shut off the engines and made his way out of the cockpit. Mechanically, he gathered his usual necessities on the way to the door, but stopped short after slinging the beskar spear to his back. After a moment's hesitation, he punched in the code for the little storage cupboard where he kept the Darksaber. He had to take it with him, right? The Jedi couldn’t train him if Din left it locked away on his ship. As much as he’d prefer it that way.

With a sigh, he unceremoniously grabbed it from the cupboard and clipped it to his belt. It felt like it weighed a ton. He hit the ‘open hatch’ button with a tightly clenched fist.

He made his way down the ramp to meet the Jedi, who was already waiting for him at the bottom. The freshly turned gravel crunched obnoxiously under his boots.

“The temple is just a short walk through the woods, that way,” the Jedi pointed across the clearing, where a slight gap in the trees indicated the opening of a path.

“I didn’t see any standing structures nearby on the way in,” Din replied, “much less an entire temple.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” The Jedi explained. He gestured for Din to follow him toward the trail head. “When I first arrived here, I spent nearly a month building shields to camouflage the temple and grounds completely.”

“Oh, I see. With the Force stuff.”

The Jedi glanced back at him as they walked, mouth quirked in bemusement. “Partially. I’m also very lucky to have access to a bit of the New Republic’s security tech, should I ever need it. They lent me a few photon shields.”

Din hummed. “Do you often work with the New Republic?” He didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but it was hard to keep the suspicion from his voice.

The Jedi didn’t seem fazed. “Not particularly. I just happen to have a lucrative connection.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well…” From where Din walked slightly behind the Jedi, he could see the tips of his ears turn red. “My sister, I mentioned her before— she’s here with Grogu. She’s— uhm, Senator Leia Organa.”

Din found it endearing; the Jedi’s clear embarrassment at revealing his status. In a political sense, at least. Being a distinctly powerful Jedi _and_ the brother of an influential figure in the New Republic government. Although ‘politician’ was definitely not near the top of the list of words Din would use to describe him.

“I’m familiar with her work,” Din said. “From what I hear, Senator Organa is quite formidable.”

That startled a laugh from the Jedi. “Oh, yes.” He said, “that’s nearly an understatement.”

Din hummed. They continued their trek in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The path was relatively clear, but in places the rippling bedrock peeked out from under the rich, dark loam. As they crested the top of a gentle ridge, Din had a thought.

“Am I to take it then, that your name is also Organa?”

The Jedi paused mid-stride, causing Din—who’d been watching his feet on a patch of uneven ground— to bump unceremoniously into his back. It felt like walking headlong into a brick wall. The Jedi hardly moved.

“I never told you my name.” He said it more like a statement than a genuine question.

“I don’t believe so, no.”

The Jedi smacked himself on the forehead with an open palm. “Typical of me, really,” he said. He was smiling now. “I could’ve sworn I told you my name back on Moff Gideon’s ship.”

Din shook his head.

“Well,” The Jedi shook himself out of the slightly baffled stupor he’d fallen into. He held out a hand. “My name is Luke Skywalker.”

An indiscernible tension hung between them, then. The Jedi— Luke— seemed to be bracing himself for something. Din, on the other hand, was mentally debating whether he could comfortably share his _own_ name. Normally he wouldn’t, both out of habit and because he was completely unused to hearing it said aloud by anyone. But he’d trusted Luke with his heart already, the least he could do was trust him with his name. He took Luke’s hand firmly in his own and shook it.

“Din Djarin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make up a lot of sci-fi sounding mumbo jumbo for this chapter? Yes, I absolutely did. Who even knows what a photon shield is? Not me, but it sure do sound cool.  
> Also, thank y'all so much for the nice comments on the first two chapters, I have never been so thoroughly validated in my life.


	4. Part III

The rest of the walk to the temple passed quite quickly after that. Luke had seemed disproportionately relieved after their formal introduction, like he’d expected Din to have some sort of reaction to his name. The relief had transformed itself into a jovial chattiness. As a man of few words himself, Din appreciated Luke’s indefinite capability to carry on a near constant stream of one-sided conversation. It was mostly about the Kid, and how the training had progressed so far.

“He’s really wonderful.” Luke gushed, “I mean—and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you— he’s a real troublemaker. But I can never really stay angry with him. Especially since he so clearly enjoys the ability to wield the Force freely. I think he’d been hiding it for so long, that it must be a relief to do what comes so naturally to him.”

And so on.

It was gratifying to Din, in a slightly irrational sort of way, that this very powerful Jedi Master thought of Grogu so highly. His son was undeniably special; it was near vindication to have confirmed what Din knew all along. That Grogu was an absolute delight. And he knew this from a very objective, unbiased point of view. Of course.

It occurred to Din as well, that Luke— as they neared the temple— had gradually changed. He began to gesticulate as he talked, emotion clearly coloring his voice. It was completely at odds with the cool, impenetrable demeanor Din had come to expect. It seemed as though the Jedi Master’s guilelessly pleasant facade had crumbled completely, leaving behind a sweet, desperately human man with kind eyes and a good natured disposition. Din didn’t quite know what to make of it. But it was nice.

The transition from outside-the-Force-field to inside-the-Force-field was so subtle that Din would’ve hardly noticed it if Luke hadn’t pointed it out to him. No towering structure suddenly appeared in front of them, jutting majestically up into the sky. There were no swathes of scholarly Jedi students milling around a stone courtyard. No trumpets singing their arrival. It was, as far as Din could tell, just more trees. But after a few minutes more, a clearing became visible between the mossy boughs.

It was another lake, smaller than the one they’d landed by, but no less idyllic. Instead of a landing pad, however, a small, wood-and-stone cabin stood on the grassy shoreline. A rustic, cobblestone chimney puffed white, sweet-smelling wood smoke into the overcast sky. There was a sizeable garden nearby, and as they drew closer Din could pick out various root vegetables, herbs and fruit growing quite successfully from the rocky ground. It was exceedingly quaint. And not at all what Din had expected from a Jedi temple. More like, just a cute little house.

However, any thought of mismatched expectations flew right from his mind when the cabin door creaked open, and a little green figure toddled out to greet them.

“Ah,” Luke said, “there he—“

But Din had already strode past him, and scooped Grogu into his arms. The Kid babbled excitedly, clawed little hands tapping a joyful rhythm against his beskar face.

“Hey Kid,” Din choked out. He realized belatedly that there were hot, happy tears brimming his eyes. “I missed you something fierce.”

The Kid squealed incoherently with delight.

Din chuckled and traced the familiar shape of the Kid’s ears with a shaky finger. The excited tension that had been building in his chest for the past several days had finally released, flooding his body with a kind of warm, happy glow he’d never felt before in his life.

He allowed himself to bask in it for a few more moments. The Kid noticed Luke standing just behind them, and he garbled out a happy greeting to the Jedi as well. Luke stepped forward, and held out a hand for the Child to grab onto. The achingly fond smile that spread across his face made something in Din’s already overflowing heart clench. 

It was then that he noticed the other person who’d emerged from the cabin. A smartly dressed woman, about the same height as Luke.

“Senator Organa, I presume.” He said.

“Leia, please. And you must be the Mandalorian I’ve heard so much about.” Leia replied with a smile. She was beautiful, Din couldn’t help but notice. Beautiful in the kind of way that the faces of ancient stone sculptures were beautiful. Like her dark eyes held more wisdom than Din could hope to accrue in a hundred lifetimes.

“Grogu has told us all about the adventures you two have had together,” she continued.

“He can talk now?”

“Oh, no not yet.” Luke said, “Leia is Force-sensitive too.”

She agreed with a nod. “We can communicate through a Force-bond. It’s not quite the same as a verbal conversation, but meaning gets across well enough.”

“Right.” Din said. Disappointment and relief flip-flopped around each other in his chest. He wished he could talk to the Kid, but he was glad he hadn’t missed his first words.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay long, my ride will be here in a few minutes.” Leia said. She turned to speak to Luke more directly, “you’re lucky you got back when you did, Han was about to go hunt you down himself. You know you can’t go that long without sending a location code, at _least_.”

“Sorry,” Luke muttered.

Leia hummed skeptically, “at least you’re back safe now.” She turned back to Din. “I’m sorry to run out so fast, but it was lovely to finally meet you. Your son is really something special.”

Din could only nod in response. A powerful wave of affection had closed up his throat. He looked down at Grogu, who was waving a little clawed hand at Leia’s retreating form. His son. It still boggled his mind to say.

“Shall I give you the tour?” Din looked up to find Luke watching him expectantly.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“Great.” Luke strode toward the cabin, and gestured for him to follow. 

The cabin itself was cozy, if sparsely furnished. There was a well-stocked kitchen, rickety dining table with accompanying stools, and a sofa whose cushions looked as though they’d seen far too many backsides. A fire crackled in the hearth and cast a warm, honey glow about the room.

“There’s a spare bedroom that you’re welcome to take. I’ve already moved Grogu’s crib in there.” Luke said, “there’s only one fresher, so I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“Sure.”

“We can work out a schedule or something, if you don’t want to— I mean, so I don’t—“ he gestured to Din, more specifically Din’s helmet, and was looking at just about everything but him. “You probably want— you probably take it off in there, I mean.”

Din repressed the chuckle that was fighting its way out of his chest. He cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he said.

To emphasize his point, he reached up with one hand and pulled the helmet off. 

Despite the fact that he had thought it through already— and was fully prepared to show his face to the Jedi again— a sick, squiggly sort of angst still roared to life in his gut. He tamped it down, and forced himself to meet Luke’s eyes.

Luke, to his credit, had managed to pick his jaw up off the floor in record time. But he couldn’t hide the blush staining his cheeks. “I—uhm,” his voice squeaked. He started again. “I’ll be honest, I’m surprised. I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“Well, maybe I’m full of surprises.” Din said, completely unused to the unmodulated sound of his own voice.

There was a strange, intense second where they couldn’t look away from each other. Now that he’d taken the helmet off, Din’s anxiety had begun to ebb. But now, gazing into Luke’s eyes without the shield of his visor between them, an altogether new and unfamiliar emotion was welling up in his chest.

The moment was quickly broken, however, when Grogu made an impatient noise. He wiggled around in Din’s arms so he was facing him. With a joyful sound, he placed one little hand on Din’s cheek and patted it affectionately, the way one might pat the head of a small child. Or a dog.

“God, that’s cute.” Luke said.

Din looked at him in surprise, and the expression on Luke’s face told him that the interjection had been completely involuntary, and that he would like nothing more than to absorb the words right back out of the air, and pretend he’d never said them. Din laughed.

“It _was_ cute.” He said, and the utter mortification on Luke’s face melted away. He laughed too.

A warm sort of comfort settled around the three of them, then. Din looked down at the Kid. _His_ kid. He thought, wildly, that maybe he could get used to this. 

When he looked back up at Luke, the other man’s smile had faded into a faraway, unfocused expression. He seemed lost in thought, eyes glazed over. Then he blinked, and the look was gone. “I’m really sorry to do this, but, if you don’t mind,” he said, “Leia is asking for me to meet back up with her at the landing pad. I won’t be gone long.”

Din just stared at him, utterly baffled.

For a moment, Luke stared back, expecting an answer. Then, realization seemed to strike him. “Oh, it’s—“ he wiggled his fingers, imitating the gesture that Din had taken to using. Force stuff.

“Right, no problem.” Din nodded, and his eyes found Grogu again. “We’ll be fine right here.”


	5. Part IV

As promised, Luke returned less than an hour later. Din had spent the time exploring the house in a bit more detail, letting Grogu point things out and babble nonsensically to him as though explaining what they were.

The spare room he would be inhabiting was modest, but with plenty of space for the two of them. As promised, a crib for the Kid had already been set up. Next to it was a wicker basket full of miscellaneous objects. Some of them were actual toys, like a comical stuffed bantha, and some were just forest detritus. Grogu excitedly showed Din a pine cone, a plush porg, some sort of seed pod, a plastic figurine, and a perfectly smooth white pebble. Din sat cross-legged on the floor next to the Kid. He held each one of Grogu’s belongings carefully as he was handed them, and examined them with the utmost attention. The Kid seemed immensely pleased at his father’s approval.

This is where Luke found them when he returned.

A gentle knock on the doorframe caught both of their attention. “I hate to interrupt,” Luke said, “but it’s about time for dinner.”

Din stood as Grogu toddled over to Luke, babbling a happy greeting.

“Everything alright?” Din asked as they entered the main room. “With your sister, I mean.”

Luke looked thoughtful for a moment. He picked up the Kid as though on autopilot, and set him on one of the stools at the table. “Everything’s fine for now.” He said finally, “I may or may not have something to discuss with you later. I just… need more information first.”

Din tried to keep the apprehension from his face, but from the way Luke looked at him, he’d clearly failed.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with Grogu.” He reassured, “it’s about the Darksaber. And the bounty on your head. Nothing’s changed yet, but I’ll let you know if it does.”

“Right, ok.” Din sighed, “good.” He’d been worried that Luke had begun to rethink his decision to let him come here. That he’d have to leave the Kid again.

“We’re eating leftovers today, I hope you don’t mind.” Luke said. He pulled out a container from the cooler, and went about preparing three servings of food.

It turned out to be some kind of soup, with large chunks of vegetables and a spicy, aromatic flavor. It was, in Din’s humble opinion, absolutely fucking delicious. When he relayed this thought to Luke, the Jedi laughed.

“I’ll have to tell Leia, she’s the one who made it,” he said. “But all of the ingredients were grown outside. Grogu’s been helping me in the garden, actually. It’s good practice for him.”

“Can— you can use magic to grow plants?”

“Yeah, you can,” Luke replied. “They’d grow here naturally themselves, but a little help from us goes a long way.”

After dinner, Din helped Luke clean up in the kitchen. Grogu started to whine and grumble, his head nodding up and down as he struggled to stay awake. 

Din picked him up and held him gently against his chest. “I think we’d better turn in.”

“Me too,” Luke replied with a yawn. Then in a teasing tone, he said, “I’m going to be training _both_ of you tomorrow, after all.”

Din chuckled and turned toward the bedroom. 

“Wait— I um...” Luke said, stopping him in his tracks. The Jedi stepped forward and tentatively laid a hand on his armored shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re here, Din.”

It made a strange kind of warmth bloom in his chest.

—————

Lying in bed that night, Din still felt a bit jittery. While he’d mentally prepared himself to remove his helmet in front of Luke in theory, it was a different thing altogether to actually do it in practice. He’d made the right decision, that much he was certain of. But the act was still so new to him. It left him feeling emotionally raw.

Because, the thing was, Din had picked over the issue in his mind in excruciating detail over the six months he spent alone. He had had the outlandish thought that maybe, if he asked real nice, the Jedi would let him be around while Grogu trained. He’d never considered it a plausible outcome, but he got lonely sometimes, and the thought of it helped to get him through the day. But the point was, he’d had a lot of time to do some serious soul searching.

By revealing his face to Luke on Gideon’s ship, he’d effectively taken a ball peen hammer to his self-declared belief system and left only rubble in his wake. He’d had to reckon with that first. The conclusion Din came to was, yes, he’d broken his Creed. But really, until the Kid, he’d never met any other Mandalorians outside of his particular faction. Bo-Katan and her kin went without their helmets freely, and she considered herself king of Mandalore. Boba Fett went without too and, well, his allegiances were a bit murky to Din. But he had principles, and he stuck to them. So, as far as Din could tell, there was more than one way to be. And that meant that maybe he _could_ still call himself a Mandalorian.

Regardless, this led to him noodling around the question of whether or not he could remove his helmet around the Jedi _again_. Should the opportunity ever arise.

And the answer he’d come to was yeah, sure.

So he’d done it at the first opportunity, like ripping off a bandaid. If he was going to do it, why not go ahead and get it over with?

He certainly wasn’t going to go without it all the time. The helmet was still a part of him, and it helped him breathe a little easier. But maybe sometimes, when he felt comfortable enough, he could leave it off for a while. It made mealtime less of a hassle, at any rate.

He slept more soundly that night than he had in the last six months. The Kid’s grunting little snores lulled him into a deep, restorative slumber. So deep, in fact, that he nearly slept in. Which at that point was a completely foreign concept to him. He slept long enough that the Kid crawled out of his crib, onto the bed, walked all over him— tiny clawed feet like daggers in Din’s unguarded tummy— and pinched him firmly on the nose.

“Hurgk—“ he said, voice still thick with sleep.

“Wagoo!” Grogu pinched his nose again, with no less force than the first time.

“Ok, alright,” Din sat up, cradling the Kid in his arms. He had to gently redirect a grabby little hand, which made continued attempts at his nose. “I’m awake now, you can stop.”

Grogu made a chirruping noise which sounded decidedly peeved.

“There’s no need to take that tone with me.”

A curious head tilt.

“Alright, I forgive you.” Din smiled, “we should go find the Jedi, yeah? You’ve got training to do.”

He got out of bed, and set the Kid gently on the ground.

“I guess we both do.”

—————

When Din emerged from his room, he found the house completely empty. But Luke had left a note on the dining table which read:

_I went out, didn’t want to wake you. Please feel free to take any food from the kitchen you want. Come find me when you’re done. Be ready to train!_

The note was punctuated by a smiley face. Underneath the scribbly text was a crudely drawn map, roughly detailing a path to where Luke was supposedly waiting.

Din shrugged and made moves to get ready for the day. He fed the Kid and himself first, and then spent a minute in the fresher. After a few moments mulling it over, he decided to get fully dressed in his armor, helmet included. It was fine to go without while inside the house, but outside was much too exposed. He didn’t think the chances of them being attacked were very high, but his finely honed survival instincts wouldn’t allow him to relax regardless.

So when he stepped out into the morning sun, it was from behind the comfort of his darkened visor.

The map that Luke had drawn was not helpful in the slightest. It wasn’t anywhere near to scale, and didn’t have any sort of legend or directional markers. The only accurate part of it was the surprisingly precise Din and Grogu he’d drawn next to the lopsided square labeled ‘temple’.

Thankfully, the Kid seemed to have some idea of where they were supposed to go. From where he sat snugly cradled in Din’s arms, he pointed out a semi-hidden trailhead not far across the lake. Din followed his directions, and they made their way into the trees. 

The path they followed was on a gentle incline, leading them up a hill. As they crested the top, they discovered the ruins of what must have long ago been an impressive building. Mossy stone bricks bigger than Din himself were stacked nearly two stories high. Three of the four original walls were more or less intact, which created a relatively large, flat clearing in the center. The roof, if there had ever been one, was gone completely, so streaks of golden sunshine dappled through the trees to decorate the overgrown brickwork underfoot.

They spotted Luke in the center of the open area. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed, his arms rested on his knees and palms facing up to the sky. As they approached he cracked an eye open, and a wry smile crept its way onto his face. “Well, you two certainly took your time.”

Grogu giggled and reached down for Luke, who stood and greeted him with a gentle pinch on the ear.

“I didn’t expect to sleep so long.” Din said, “you could’ve woken me.”

“No worries. The two of you looked so peaceful, I thought it best to let you sleep.” Luke’s smile had warmed into an expression so bright and gentle, it made Din’s stomach flutter.

He firmly tamped down the feeling. There was no need to address it now. It didn’t help that the Jedi was not wearing the billowing black robes Din had always seen him wear. Instead, he’d donned a set of comfortable-looking grey fatigues that silhouetted his figure in a way that made Din’s face heat up. Absolutely no need to address that feeling either.

Grogu’s morning training routine consisted of breathing exercises, meditation, and then practice with actually wielding the Force. Moving rocks and such. Luke had invited Din to join them in the former two, but he’d politely declined. Instead he found a large stone to sit on at the edge of the clearing, next to a bag Luke had brought with him.

He watched attentively as Luke and Grogu sat on the ground facing each other. Luke, in the position they’d found him in that morning, and Grogu mimicking him nearly exactly. They both closed their eyes and took a long, deep breath in. After an impossibly lengthy period of time, they exhaled slowly. They repeated this process for what, to Din, felt like hours.

Eventually they stood and began the actual Force stuff. First Luke and Grogu played a sort of slow, strange game of catch, similar to what Ahsoka Tano had done on Corvus. They wordlessly passed a small stone back and forth through the air for a minute, the pebble resting for no more than a second in their hands before it was sent floating away again. After that warm up, Luke took the Kid through a series of exercises which were— from what Din could tell— puzzles. The Jedi levitated three massive stone pillars from where they lay in the rubble to stand upright in a line. Then they commenced their game of catch again, but this time the pebble had to weave in and out between the columns before landing in the others’ hand. 

The exercises got more and more complicated after that, each testing a slightly different skill, but still building on the former lesson. However, regardless of what they were doing, Luke maintained the same gentle patience throughout. Even if Grogu repeatedly failed to do a task correctly, or refused to do it at all, the Jedi wouldn’t try to force it. If the Kid seemed like he was getting frustrated, Luke would either walk him through the puzzle again, aiding him until he could do it confidently himself, or they’d move on to something slightly easier. But no matter what, to Din’s relief, there was no point at which the Kid seemed genuinely distressed. 

Around midday, they took a break. Luke carried Grogu over to where Din sat at the edge of the clearing and set him down.

“I’ve got some lunches for us in my bag, would you mind getting them out?” He asked Din.

Din obliged. Inside the bag there were three wooden boxes wrapped in soft, worn linen. He took them out, and handed one to Luke and Grogu each. The Kid squealed with delight at the sight of his lunchbox, and grabbed impatiently at the wrappings. Luke helped him get it undone while Din opened his own meal.

It was simple fare, but tasty. Din opted not to remove his helmet, but compromised by lifting it just enough to take a bite before lowering it back in place. The three of them ate in silence for a few minutes—the Jedi and the Kid too hungry after their training to bother making conversation. Once the two adults had finished their meals, at least, Din decided to voice something that had been on his mind.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Luke glanced at him. “Of course.”

Din gestured to Grogu. “Is he your first student?”

“My first and only,” Luke smiled. “Why, is it obvious I’ve never done this before?”

“No, not at all.” Din reassured him quickly. “I mean… I don’t know anything about the Jedi stuff, so I don’t know how much my opinion is actually worth, but I think you’re a good teacher. We went to another Jedi before, uh, Ahsoka Tano. She told me she couldn’t train him.”

Luke nodded. “Grogu told me about your meeting with her.”

“Right. She— she said he had too much fear. And anger. That if she trained him, he could use his powers to hurt people.” Din shook his head and looked at the Kid. “But I just don’t see that happening to him. Not anymore, at least. Not the way he uses his powers with you.”

A look passed over Luke’s face then that Din couldn’t quite identify. But it was warm, and achingly gentle. “Thank you, Din.” He said softly, “that means a lot to me.”

The intensity of Luke’s gaze was a bit too much for Din to handle, so he took to watching Grogu munch away at the last of his lunch.

“To be honest, I sensed the same thing as Ahsoka Tano.” Luke said, “he was angry and afraid. He still is, I think, deep down. The things he’s seen… that type of pain doesn’t just go away. And if left unchecked, it can transform itself into a Darkness within him. But he can heal. He just needs the time and space to learn how to process it properly.”

“He feels safe here. With you.”

That warm look was back in Luke’s eyes. “And with you.”

—————

Din’s first training session with the Darksaber commenced after lunch. Grogu curled up inside Luke’s bag and quickly dropped off into a post-lunch nap.

“He normally gets the afternoons off anyways,” Luke explained. “He’s getting stronger, but using the Force that much tires him out.”

He then instructed Din to take out the Darksaber and come to the middle of the clearing. Din obliged, with some trepidation.

Luke laughed warmly. “There’s no need to be so tense. I’m not going to fail you on the first day.”

They stood a few feet apart, facing each other. Din still decidedly apprehensive, and Luke thoughtfully eyeing him over. After a few moments, Luke said, “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

Din stayed silent and waited for him to continue.

“You already know how to fight,” Luke said. It wasn’t a question. “I considered starting from scratch; taking you through the movements of Lightsaber training as though you were a beginner. But I have a feeling that would be more frustrating for you than actually helpful.”

Din nodded, listening.  
  


“So,” he continued, “I want to try and integrate what you already know with what I can teach you. A Lightsaber is a formidable weapon, and it can’t be wielded the same as any other blade, but you don’t have to be textbook in order to be effective. You won’t end up wielding it with the same technique as a Jedi, but that’s not my end goal anyway.” Luke smiled. “After all you’re not a Jedi. You’re a Mandalorian.”

Then, from the belt of his fatigues, Luke drew his Lightsaber. The bright green blade hummed into existence. “So, for our first day, I thought you might show me how a Mandalorian fights.”

Now _that_ Din could do.

He unclipped the Darksaber from his belt, and pressed the trigger to release the blade. With a searing flash, it cut a blinding, dark streak through the air. Despite the giddy, anticipatory feeling that reared its head at the thought of sparring with Luke, the Darksaber still felt uncomfortable in his hands. As he shifted into his fighting stance, the hilt felt wobbly and awkward in his grip. Like it was deliberately resisting every one of Din’s commands.

“Don’t hold back on me.” Luke said, standing at the ready. “You’ve got your beskar, but I’ve got the Force. Give me everything you’ve got.”

With that, he swung his saber across Din’s body, nearly too fast for him to block. But Din parried, and the sparring session commenced.

Din already knew that the Jedi was a lethal force— he’d seen as much on Moff Gideon’s ship. But it was difficult now, even after just a few days, to correlate that hardened warrior with the kind and gentle man he knew Luke to be. But when they sparred, he could see the two merge. Luke was not actively trying to kill him, and he could clearly tell that part of the Jedi’s attention was occupied with watching the way Din fought. All the same, he realized that Luke was having fun. He’d pull off taunting little jabs, or stray just close enough for Din to think he’d gotten the upper hand before jumping away again with a laugh. He had absolute control of his body, and he used his weapon as an extension of himself. Din held his own for a while. But while Din was much stronger, Luke was unbelievably quick, and had far more training with the Lightsaber. Within a few minutes Din was disarmed, the Darksaber flew out of his hand and clattered to the ground, extinguished.

He slumped, gasping for air beneath his helmet. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a cheeky bastard?” He wheezed.

Luke laughed aloud, his face flushed. “It's been said before, yes.” After a moment, he held an open hand out toward the Darksaber, and the darkened hilt snapped into his grip. He stepped close to Din, and presented it like an offering. A wicked smile crept onto his face. “Want to go again?”

“You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really really really like the idea that Luke is a patient and empathetic teacher. And Din is an oblivious but supportive soccer dad.
> 
> Also, thank y’all again for all your sweet comments and kudos. I! Appreciate! You!!


	6. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some minor descriptions of canon-typical violence at the end of it. Like super mild and very brief because I don’t want this fic to be like that, but heads up if you’re sensitive.

Din and Luke sparred until the sun began to set. Orange-gold shafts of sunlight broke through the trees, illuminating the training area like fire. Din had lost track of how many rounds they’d gone, but he certainly lost more than he’d won. Luke moved like nothing he’d ever seen, and Din knew that even without the Darksaber as a handicap, he’d have struggled to win more than half the time. They were both well and truly exhausted. But Din found it nigh impossible to wipe the grin from his face, even as they picked up the Kid and trekked back to the cabin.

After waking from his nap, Grogu had spent much of the afternoon exploring the woods in a small radius around the clearing. He stayed well within sight of his caretakers, but occupied himself by chasing flying beetles and digging for treasure. When they returned to the house, he proudly showed off an interestingly shaped nut which he’d decided to add to his collection.

“An excellent discovery,” Luke enthused when the Kid showed it off to him. “You have a keen eye, little one.”

“What is it?” Din asked. He also made sure to give the Kid’s trophy the attention it so clearly deserved.

“I have no idea.”

But Grogu was grinning ear to ear regardless.

It kept him occupied while Luke made dinner for the three of them. Din sat on the floor in front of the fire with the Kid. He watched as Grogu came up with a little game for himself, wherein he’d use the Force to gently roll the spherical nutshell along the lines of the worn, woven rug beneath them. The nut would roll in a full loop, tracing the endless, swooping, organic pattern, until it reached the Kid’s outstretched hands. Then he’d pick it up with a giggle, and show it to Din. He did this five times over before he seemed to grow tired of the game. He stood and toddled over to where Din sat cross-legged on the floor.

He leaned against Din’s knee and looked up at him for a few moments. Then he reached out a hand and made an impatient noise.

At first Din didn’t understand what the Kid was asking. But after a few more seconds of Grogu pointing at him insistently, it dawned on him. He glanced at Luke, still busy in the kitchen, before he sighed and lifted the helmet off of his head. Even though he’d decided he could take it off now, it was going to be difficult to break the habit of leaving it on all the time. He set the helmet on the couch behind him.

Grogu burbled happily and climbed into his lap, making grabby hands at Din’s face. Din obliged, lifting the Kid up so he could plant both clawed hands on Din’s cheeks with a squeal of joy.

Din chuckled and said softly, “yeah, it's still new for me too.”

“Hey, you two,” Luke called from the kitchen. “Come get some food, dinner’s ready.”

Din rose with the Kid still in his arms. He served plates for the two of them, and joined Luke at the dining table. Dinner was a mix of stir fried vegetables and deliciously seasoned strips of dark meat, which the Kid ate with unbridled zeal.

Once they’d all had their fill, and Grogu had settled against Din’s chest to doze, Din said quietly, “can I ask— what are your thoughts after today?”

“Of course,” Luke replied. He rested his chin in his hand, elbow propped up on the table. “You’re a very skilled fighter. Efficient. But I already knew that. You’d made it clear that you were apprehensive about the Darksaber, but I wasn’t sure exactly how it was affecting your combat.” 

He looked down at the table for a few moments, lost in thought. Then he continued, “I don’t think the problem has one true cause. If it were purely that it was an unfamiliar weapon, you could’ve solved it yourself, simply through practice. But that’s only a small part of it. The saber does belong to you, I don’t think it’s resisting you on that front. However,  _ you _ are most definitely resisting the saber. Not only does it bestow the rule of Mandalore to whoever wields it, but it carries a violent history. Sabers remember. You aren’t Force-sensitive but you feel the weight of it all the same.”

Din hummed.

“Part of your training will simply be acclimation to the blade. Properly integrating it in with your fighting style.” Luke continued, “but part of it will be mental. Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’ve spent a lot of time trying  _ not  _ to think about the Darksaber.”   
  


“No, that’s accurate.”

“Right. So, I’d say the first big hurdle for you is to do the opposite. You’re mentally fighting against the saber and all it represents. But in order for you to wield it properly, you’ll have to reckon with its history. And…” he looked at Din and said gently, “its possible future.”

“You mean I have to accept the rule of Mandalore?”

Luke smiled kindly. “Just the possibility of it. What if certain circumstances made it impossible for you to hand off the Darksaber? What if you’re called upon to step forward as the leader of your people? Would you be willing to rise to the responsibility?”

It was stated as a hypothetical, but Din couldn’t help feeling like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. Instinctively, he knew the answer to Luke’s question. Given no better option, he  _ would  _ take up the mantle. Without question. And it terrified him.

Luke seemed to sense his unease. After a moment's hesitation, he rested a hand over Din’s on the table. “You don’t need to have the answers to those questions right away, but I ask that you spend some time thinking about them. The more you allow yourself to acclimate to the idea— the  _ possibility _ of ruling Mandalore, the easier the Darksaber will be to bear.”

Din nodded. It was a simple enough request. But he found himself partly distracted by the warm weight of Luke’s hand on his own, like it was burning a brand into his skin. Tentatively, and pointedly  _ not  _ looking at the Jedi, he turned his hand so his palm was facing up against Luke’s. It hardly changed the amount of contact between them, but it felt undoubtedly more intimate. 

There was a pregnant pause where neither of them moved. Then, Luke curled his fingers around Din’s, interlocking then briefly. Din inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped up. Luke was watching him with a mixture of caution, a shaky sort of uncertainty, and unguarded affection. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth before he pulled away.

“I’d better head to bed.” His voice was so small and tremulous it was almost a whisper. “Would you mind cleaning up? I uhm— I need to meditate for a bit. Plan for the lessons tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I can— yeah. No problem,” Din replied.

The Jedi stood from the table and went to his bedroom door. Before closing himself away, he turned with a bright look in his eyes. “Goodnight Din.”

“Goodnight, Luke.”

—————

Din was surprised at how quickly they settled into a routine. Each morning he and the Kid would wake early. Sometimes Luke would be there when they did, sometimes he would leave at some indeterminate time before dawn and leave a note on the dining table. Din didn’t know exactly what the Jedi got up to in those small hours of the morning— his hastily scribbled messages typically contained no more information than  _ ‘I went out’ _ — but when he and the Kid arrived at the grounds for training, Luke was there.

The Kid always trained first. They would invariably start with meditation, but the Force exercises varied day to day. Luke consistently offered Din to join them in the former. Although he politely declined, Din found that while he watched the meditation ritual he’d often become enchanted by the deep, slow rhythm of their breathing. Inadvertently, and still sitting on the sidelines, he’d match his breath with the steady ins-and-outs of Luke’s and slip into a relaxed, dreamlike subconsciousness. He never mentioned it, but he had a feeling the Jedi knew regardless.

Then they’d eat lunch together. Afterward the Kid would curl up somewhere comfy and take a nap, while Din’s training with the Darksaber began.

Sparring was a regular activity for them. Although, Din suspected it had less to do with teaching and more to do with the fact that Luke seemed to enjoy it immensely. But Din  _ was  _ getting better with the saber. He still tended to fumble at inopportune moments, and if he tried to pull off a clever manoeuvre it never quite seemed to work out. But the frequency of his losses decreased.

His main issue was all the mental stuff. It felt like he’d tried every possible rational inroad to get to the conclusion: ‘become the king of Mandalore’. But it always felt wrong. Like some fundamental part of him absolutely rejected the idea and wouldn’t be talked around to it. He knew he could probably speak to Luke about it, but it still felt too sensitive. An instinctual, guttural part of him knew his problem ran deeper than the Darksaber. But his attempts to identify the face of it left his mind littered with half-formed and entirely unhelpful thoughts.

So, about a month after his first day of training, he’d reached a plateau.

Luke seemed entirely unbothered. “The same thing happened to Grogu,” he said, after casually pointing out Din’s recent lack of progress.

“How did he overcome it?”

“We took a break.”

And while Din’s first reaction was bone-chilling dread, the Jedi  _ wasn’t  _ suggesting that Din should leave. It was more like, they’d stop for a while to shake his mind and body out of the monotony. So maybe he should try and get a hobby or something. But even after just a few days, the generous unstructured free time made Din’s skin crawl. He wasn’t built for leisure.

He said as much to Luke, who seemed to take it in stride.

“Tomorrow, I want you to join me in a little exercise,” he said. They’d gotten into the habit of sitting on the couch together after dinner and sharing a pot of tea. The Kid dozed in the crook of Luke’s arm. “And we’re going to meditate.”

Din took a sip of his tea, pointedly silent. Luke chuckled and nudged him playfully on the shoulder.

“I  _ know  _ you’ve declined every invitation I’ve made so far. But now I’m not asking as your friend, I’m telling you as your teacher.”

Din huffed a laugh, his heart warmed at the words ‘your friend’. “Fine,” he conceded, “I’ll meditate with you. But I don’t know what good it’ll do me.”

Luke quirked an eyebrow at him, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, I’ll make a believer of you yet, Din Djarin.”

And if Din’s stomach did a besotted little flutter, Luke was none the wiser.

—————

They woke before sunrise the next morning. Grogu was still asleep, and rather than leave him behind, Luke swaddled him in a soft blanket and carried him in a sling close to his chest. As they made their way out into the crisp, pre-dawn air, Din could still hear the Kid’s snuffling little snores emanating from the cozy bundle of fabric.

Din had expected to head toward their usual training spot. But as they set out, Luke led them down an unfamiliar trail. They didn’t make much conversation, but the silence between them was comfortable. 

After about fifteen minutes of hiking, the path’s gentle incline got steadily steeper, and before he knew it Din was having to search for handholds to climb. Luke picked out a safe route that Din followed closely. It was clear the Jedi did this often, as he barely had to look where he was going up the precipitous mountainside. It was a bit of a struggle for Din in his heavy beskar, and after several minutes he longed for a break. But the end was soon in sight. They crested the top just as the sun peeked over the horizon.

At the top of the mountain was a large clearing. There was blue-grey stone underfoot, worn smooth and flat from centuries of weathering. The area was clear of trees so the sky opened up, yawning impossibly wide and utterly vibrant with the sunrise. From the perch Din could see out across the forested landscape, completely untouched save for their little cabin, the thatched roof just barely visible through the trees. There was something else too, Din noticed once he’d had a chance to catch his breath. A sort of pleasant tingling sensation in his fingers and toes. It spread through his body, buzzing gently up his spine.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Luke said. His eyes were closed, and a calm, peaceful expression had settled on his face.

“I do,” Din replied. “But I’m not sure exactly what I’m feeling.”

Luke’s eyes remained closed, but he smiled. “It's the Force.”

“The Force?” Din looked around, as though he’d somehow be able to see sweeping tendrils of the mysterious energy all around them. He didn’t. “I thought I wasn’t Force-sensitive.”

Luke chuckled. He opened his eyes and gave Din a desperately fond look. “You’re not. But the Force is part of you regardless, as it is a part of everything in the universe. This place,” he gestured to the clearing around them, “is special. It's one of the reasons I decided to settle on this moon. The barrier between ourselves and the Force is thinned, allowing even the least sensitive to feel its energy flow through them.”

Din hummed. “And we’re going to meditate up here?”

“In a way,” Luke replied. He folded his robes around him— careful not to jostle Grogu, who was still sound asleep— and sat down. He gestured for Din to join him.

Din obliged and sat cross-legged, facing the Jedi. Luke scooted a little closer so there was only about a foot of space between their knees.

“We’re going to try and access that which has been eluding you.” Luke began, his voice soft. He huffed an amused breath and shook his head. “Gods, I’m talking in riddles now too.” He said it like a joke, although Din got the feeling it wasn’t meant for anyone but himself. The Jedi continued, “you’ve been having trouble with the mentality of the Darksaber. Something is stopping you from fully accepting ownership. I want to help you find that blockage, to know its face, and once you do I think the rest will become much easier.”

Din nodded.

“But I want to warn you. I brought you up here so that your connection to the Force would flow easier. This will allow me to see into your mind, so that I can help guide you. But I will give you my word now, I am not doing this just to take a joyride in your brain. I will not go where I’m not wanted. I may be the more experienced one here, but  _ you  _ are in control. Do you understand?”

Din did understand. Mostly. The Force stuff was largely lost on him, but he trusted Luke implicitly. He hadn’t known the man for long, but there was such a gentle warmth about him that Din couldn’t help but want to give him everything. To jump headfirst into the sunshine of his presence and never resurface. And that was exactly the kind of thing Din  _ didn’t  _ want Luke to see on accident in his head.

“Would you mind taking off your gloves for me?” Luke said, dragging Din from his thoughts.

“Uh, sure.” He pulled them off and set them on the ground.

“Follow my breathing and relax. Concentrate on the Darksaber. On your connection with it.” The Jedi held out his hands, and Din tentatively took them.

Luke’s hands were warm and dry against his. He closed his eyes and focused on matching the Jedi’s breathing. Soon a dreamy, hazy feeling settled over him, and he began to drift away from the concreteness of his body. He tried to do as Luke said— clear his mind of everything except the Darksaber— 

But the same memory that often plagued his nightmares swam focus instead. His father’s strong grip around his middle, his mother’s terrified cries, the blaster fire blazing red streaks through the air. How sudden and alien the muffled darkness of the bunker felt after such chaos, even for a few moments. The face of the Mandalorian, reaching down to him with an outstretched hand.

Then he was a young man, freshly sworn to the Creed. He was staring down the barrel of a blaster at a Klatooinian that was trying to kill him. He fired. The first time he’d taken a life he nearly threw up in his helmet. But the second time was easier.

Then he was a little older. He’d joined the Guild and it meant he didn’t have to kill so often. It was better for business if he didn’t, actually. But the people he hunted were dangerous and didn’t have the same qualms as him. Innocent people still lost their lives and he could have done something. Could have acted sooner.

He heard the dying breath of too many. The choking, gasping sob that gripped to the last vestiges of life. He saw the brightness fade from their eyes, and it was wrong, wrong,  _ wrong _ —

He wasn’t sure who broke away first, but when Din opened his eyes, he was standing several feet from where he'd been seconds ago. His heart was racing like he’d just been in a fight. After a few moments of panic he caught his breath. He looked over at Luke and found both the Jedi and Grogu staring openly at him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. His face was damp with tears under his helmet.

“No,” Luke said, his voice hard. He stood, the Kid still held tightly in his arms, and strode over to Din. “Do not apologize.”

“But I’m—”

“Whatever you’re going to say, whatever excuses you think you need to make, I don’t want to hear it.” Luke’s demeanor had gentled. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the cheek of Din’s helmet. “I know what you’re feeling right now. That crushing guilt.” He swallowed, “and I don’t just know because I was in your head. I’ve felt it too. For years.”

“What do you have to be guilty for?”

“Din—” Luke began. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but froze instead.

Din searched his face in confusion. “Luke?”

“Hang on,” Luke murmured. He had a faraway look on his face that Din recognized as the expression he made when he was concentrating very hard on something through the Force. After a few moments of silence, Luke blinked and looked at him. “We need to get back to the house. Leia is coming right now, and she has something to tell us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger? In MY domestic fluff fanfic? It’s more likely than you think.
> 
> I've outlined the entire rest of the story for this and I'm. So Excited.


	7. Part VI

Before they climbed back down the mountain, Luke took Din’s hand and squeezed it briefly. He said, “we’ll finish this conversation later, ok?”

Din agreed.

They arrived back at the cabin just in time to see a ship fly overhead. It was old— pre-Empire, and for some reason Din thought it looked familiar. The ship descended past the treetops a ways away, in the direction of the landing pad.

“That’s her,” Luke said, his voice tense.

They awaited Leia’s arrival outside. Din kept watch over Grogu, who was gleefully chasing a toad through the grass. Luke stood still, his eyes on the treeline. The Jedi was anxious. His posture didn’t betray it at all, but Din could feel it radiating off him in waves.

“I’m sure it’s fine, whatever it is,” he said gently. Of course, he didn’t believe that himself. And he knew that Luke knew that. But it felt right to say regardless.

Eventually, the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the tense quiet. Leia emerged from the trees, followed by a handsome man with a flop of dark brown hair and an easy smile.

“Hey, kid!” The handsome man slung an arm around Luke’s shoulder and ruffled his hair.

Luke seemed to take the manhandling in stride. “Hello, Han. It’s nice to see you.”

“Cut that out, we don’t have all day.” Leia said, swatting Han on the shoulder.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need for that! Besides, there’re introductions to be made.” He turned his attention to Din. “What’s your name then, fella?”

Din eyed him carefully from behind his visor. “You can call me Mando.” Over Han’s shoulder, he saw Luke shoot him a look. It was gone before he could properly identify the emotion.

“Mando? Alright.” He stuck out a hand for him to shake. “I’m Han Solo.”

Suddenly, recognition clicked in Din’s brain. “I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh yeah? That doesn’t surprise me.” Han replied with a smirk. “You’re a bounty hunter, right? We probably ran in some of the same circles back in the day.”

“Yes. I remember passing on your bounty for Jabba the Hutt.”

That seemed to shake him, but he recovered quickly. “That so? How come?”

Din shrugged. “Your bounty was far too low. Hardly worth the trouble.”

“It was  _ what— _ ”

“Alright,  _ enough _ .” Leia interjected, “can we all please go inside. There is an urgent matter to discuss.”

The three of them— plus Grogu in Din’s arms— followed her command. Han grumbled the whole way about ‘damn Mandos’, earning him a stern pinch on the ear from Leia.

Luke busied himself and put on a pot of tea while the rest of them settled around the table. Leia wasted no time getting down to business. “I’m afraid this has to do with you, Mandalorian.” She began, “the bounty on you has risen. Apparently, a not insignificant group of bounty hunters has decided to band together and hunt you down.”

“That seems… uncharacteristic,” Din said.

Han barked a dry laugh. “Under normal circumstances I’d agree with you, Mando. But the price on your head is so high it's worth it to split the reward.”

“Are they able to track him?” Luke said as he set the tea tray down on the table.

“Apparently not,” Leia responded. “But we’ve been keeping tabs, and in the last few days they’ve gotten a bit too close for comfort. It’s only a matter of time before one or more of them end up here.”

It was silent around the table, then. An unspoken reality hung heavy in the air. Din chanced a glimpse at Luke, who was steadfastly not looking at him. His heart sunk.

“Well, it’s clear what needs to be done,” he said. “I have to leave.”

Leia sighed, an expression of genuine sympathy on her face. “I’m so—”

“No,” Luke interjected. His voice was calm and quiet, but held such ferocity beneath the surface that nobody dared argue. “There must be another option.”

“Lucky for you, kid, we’ve got a lead,” Han said.

“I would  _ hardly _ call it a lead,” Leia sighed. “It's shaky, at best, and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. But it's all we’ve been able to find out so far.”

Din perked up at that. “What is it?”

Han and Leia shared a look. “We have a name,” he said. “I had a guy look into it; apparently there’s a Zabrak by the name of Movasi who’s been talkin’ a big game. Says he’s gonna be the one to take you out.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Din said.

“Nor have I. And he’s not Guild, apparently.” Han replied, “but I guess he’s new to the game, since he hasn’t learned well enough to keep his damn mouth shut.”

“All the better for us that he hasn’t,” Luke said. “Is there any way we can locate him?”

Din sighed, “I have an idea.”

—————

Din sat in the cockpit of the  _ Trident.  _ It was just after noon, and bright sunshine spilled in through the bulkhead window, illuminating the dormant dashboard controls. He settled further into the pilot’s chair and punched Cara Dune’s personal comlink code into the communications array. It hummed to life and a little white light began to blink as it made the connection.

Moments later, Cara appeared in holo form, a flickering blue miniature. “Hey, what’s up Mando? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said. He didn’t like to brush off the pleasantries, but they were short on time. “I’d like to catch up, but I’m calling on business.”

“What do you need?”

“The New Republic keeps tabs on potentially dangerous people, right?”

She hummed. “Only if they have a criminal record.”

“Can you try to look someone up for me? Give me their last known location?”

She nodded. Her holo form bent over a console that was just out of frame. “Who’re we looking for?”

“A bounty hunter, but not Guild. He’s a Zabrak named Movasi.”

“Gimme a second,” she muttered, clicking through the database. After a moment, she straightened up. “Yeah, we’ve got a hit. Looks like he was on Tatooine two days ago.”

Din huffed a sigh of relief. It was familiar territory, at least. “That’s a start. Thank you, Cara.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “If you’re going to Tatooine, you should look up Boba Fett. He and Fennec have set up shop there since we saw them last. Maybe he’s heard something— could point you in the right direction, if nothing else.”

Din agreed. “Thank you again.”

“Next time you’re in town, you owe me a drink,” she replied wryly. “You gonna need backup for this ‘business’ of yours?”

“No, it's alright. I’m… I’m not alone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Very mysterious. Anyway, if shit gets real, you know you can call me any time.”

Din nodded. They said their goodbyes and he severed the comlink. He sat back in his chair with a huff. On to Tatooine. 

—————

Luke had resolutely insisted that he would go with him. While Din had wanted to argue, he didn’t bother. He knew he really didn’t have a leg to stand on. Luke was a powerful Jedi and good in a pinch, and on the off chance the mob of bounty hunters caught up with Din it would be nice to have him around. Din also thought it would be nice to have Luke around for other, more personal reasons. But he would absolutely  _ not _ voice that aloud.

“I grew up on Tatooine,” Luke said to Din as they loaded the  _ Trident  _ for the trip. “I haven’t been back in a long time.”

“Not since we killed Jabba,” Han interjected. He dropped a heavy crate of rations with a huff.

Leia scoffed where she stood at the bottom of the loading ramp. Grogu sat in her arms and watched the proceedings with interest. “I think you mean, since  _ I  _ killed Jabba.”

“Oh, right, sure. Either way, the old worm ate it. Why’re you goin’ to his old empty palace anyway?”

“We’re seeking the aid of Boba Fett.” Din replied

Han laughed like Din had just told the best joke he’d ever heard. “Sure, pal. You’d have better luck with the Sarlacc.”

Din wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Instead, he shrugged and loaded the last ammunition crate onto the ship. Once it had been carefully stored, he joined the others at the bottom of the ramp. “We’d better be on our way,” he said. “Thank you again, for watching the Kid.”

“Of course, he’s a delight.” Leia replied, “you two just make sure you come back all in one piece, you hear me?”

She said it kindly, but Din couldn’t help but feel it was a tiny bit of a threat.

Luke pulled his sister into a tight hug. Grogu cooed between them. “You know me, I love getting into trouble.”

Han grabbed Luke for a hug as well and ruffled his hair. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Luke laughed. “That’s not a very long list, to be fair.”

Din felt his heart clench as he gave Grogu one last once-over and a stroke on the ear. The Kid smiled and took Din’s finger in both of his clawed little hands. “Don’t worry,” Din said softly to him. “We’ll be back soon.”

—————

Din set the  _ Trident _ to autopilot after making the jump to hyperspace. Luke sat on a jump seat in the lower deck. When Din climbed down the ladder to join him, he found the Jedi bent forward over his knees, face resting in his hands. Din paused.

“Are you— are you busy? Uhm, meditating?” He asked.

“No, I’m just thinking.” Luke mumbled into his palms. Then he patted the empty seat next to him. “Come sit.”

Din did. Although not without some hesitation. Despite the rush to get off world, he hadn’t been able to get their unfinished conversation from his mind. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Luke sat back then and looked at him, puzzled. “For what?”

“The— the meditation thing. Before.” Din replied, “I’m sorry, I didn’t do it right. You told me to focus on the Darksaber and… I don’t know. All those memories just came so quickly, I didn’t—”

“Din.” The Jedi interrupted him gently. “I think you did everything exactly right.”

Din felt like all of the breath whooshed out of his lungs, all at once. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the point of the exercise was to try and identify what was keeping you from accepting the Darksaber. But it isn’t  _ just  _ the saber. You and I both know it carries much more weight than that.” Luke took Din’s hand in both of his and pulled it into his lap. “May I be blunt?”

“I’d rather you were.”

Luke took a breath to steel himself before continuing. “I don’t think you give a damn about the saber. It could be a pike, a blaster rifle, or— or a vibro axe for all you care. The weapon itself means very little to you.”

Din was silent and waited for him to continue.

“But, I think…” He ran a thumb idly over Din’s gloved knuckles, and seemed to choose his next words carefully. “I think, you don’t believe that you’re worthy of Mandalore.”

Din stared down at his hand in Luke’s.

“You won’t allow yourself to accept ownership of the Darksaber, because doing so would require you to accept the right to rule your people.” Luke continued softly, “and you— you feel that because of the life you’ve led, you don’t deserve that right. Am I wrong?”

“No,” Din sighed after a moment. “You’re not wrong.”

He saw Luke nod out of the corner of his eye. Then, in a voice so small Din almost missed it, he said, “do you think I’m worthy of being a Jedi?”

Din snapped his head up to look at him. “Of course you are.”

A rueful smile tugged at Luke’s mouth, “and you think I’m worthy of teaching, and looking after your child?”

“Of course!” Din said, indignant. “Why are you—”   
  
“And do you know how many people I’ve killed?”

That abruptly stopped Din’s rising temper. “No, but that doesn’t—”

“Do you know the things I did during the war? In the name of the Rebellion?” Luke was looking right at him now, in that way that made Din feel like his helmet wasn’t there at all. “Did you know that Darth Vader was my father?”

Luke’s expression was steely and sure, but Din could sense it was tinged with nerves.

“You never told me.” Din said. He tried to keep his voice as warm as possible through the modulator of his helmet. “Of course I didn’t know.”

“You’re right, I didn’t tell you.” Luke said, “not because I’m ashamed of my father— quite the opposite is true— but because if and when people find out who he was, they make judgements. They begin to question me. My accomplishments, and my motives. They say that I’m not worthy of my title— of  _ anything _ — because of circumstances that were beyond my control. But, Din, it doesn’t matter to me what anyone thinks. Because I know that I did the best I could with what I was given. And perhaps it wasn’t always right, but I survived.”

He brought a hand to Din’s face, and tilted the chin of his helmet up with a finger. “And so did you. Your people were desperate, and you provided for them by any means necessary. When your people were gone, you protected your son. And that is an honorable cause, no matter how you look at it. So, whether you want the throne of Mandalore or not. You, Din Djarin,  _ are worthy  _ of it _. _ ”

Din was completely frozen in place. The rush of emotions he felt was so sudden and so strong, he couldn’t even begin to parse them. But one thought came rising up, bright and blinding, to the surface of his mind. 

He loved Luke Skywalker.

He loved him so much it hurt. And he couldn’t possibly loosen the vice grip his emotions had on his throat long enough to articulate it. So instead he slowly, cautiously, leaned into the Jedi’s space and pressed his beskar forehead to Luke’s. After a moment, he felt Luke return the pressure, his eyes sliding shut, and Din could see his shaky exhale fog up the outside of his visor. They sat like that, foreheads pressed firmly together and holding each other close, for several minutes.

“God, Din. You— you’re too much sometimes.” Luke huffed a desperate laugh. “Can I— can I please—” he gestured to the helmet.

Din swallowed nervously but nodded, and Luke gently lifted it from his head. Immediately, Din felt raw, exposed, doubly so under Luke’s reverent gaze. But he wouldn’t dare move from that spot. Not when Luke was touching his cheek, and gently brushing the tips of his fingers through his hair. Din shivered.

“Is this ok?” Luke whispered.

Din could only nod in affirmation. He took one of Luke’s hands in his and pressed a gentle kiss to his palm, and the soft inside of his wrist.

Luke exhaled shakily. He leaned in first this time, and pressed their foreheads together again. “I need you to know, Din. I’ve never known another being in my life who makes me feel as much as you do.”

Luke’s warm breath puffing against his face made him shiver pleasantly again. He finally managed to say, “you make me feel…bright.”

Din’s eyes were mostly closed, but he could still see Luke’s smile. They sat and breathed together for another minute more. 

Din had never explicitly thought about kissing Luke— he’d never kissed anyone before— but now that he was so close he couldn’t imagine  _ not _ doing it.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

Luke hummed and tilted his chin up just slightly, meeting him halfway. He let Din close the rest of the distance. It was just a chaste brush of lips, but it lit Din up from the inside out. He pressed more firmly the second time, and hummed as Luke’s hand trailed up into his hair.

They stayed like that for several minutes, trading gentle kisses. Din was so taken by the sensation of Luke’s mouth on his, it was all he could do just to keep both hands on the Jedi’s waist, anchoring himself to the solid warmth of Luke’s body. Eventually Luke pulled away, but not before pecking him on both cheeks, and once on his nose. When Din opened his eyes, Luke was smiling.

And Din couldn’t help but smile back.

The trip to Tatooine took a little under two days. The two of them didn’t do anything more than share a few exploratory kissing sessions— any more than that would’ve been a bit too much, too soon for Din, it was by far the most intimate he'd been with another person in his life. They curled up together in the bunk to sleep, and Din basked in how novel it was to have Luke’s body against his.

But their time was short lived. After two days of travel, the flight nav computer beeped a warning that the ship would drop out of hyperspace shortly. They’d arrived at Tatooine.

—————

Din landed the  _ Trident  _ in Mos Eisley. He and Luke decided to hire a speeder to get them out to Jabba’s palace. However, they couldn’t go anywhere without a thorough talking-to by Peli who, upon noticing Grogu’s absence, had threatened Din’s health and safety no less than five times. It was only once he and Luke had assured her that the Kid was safe and well taken care of were they able to head out.

For the whole speeder trip, Luke regaled Din with stories of his early years on Tatooine. If Din had been asked before what he thought the Jedi’s youth was like, he wouldn’t have guessed a life full of farm chores, speeder racing, and blaster practice with womp rats. But now that he knew Luke better, he could almost picture that rascally farm boy hidden under the layers of austere Jedi Master. 

Jabba’s palace grew steadily on the horizon as they shot across the golden sands. “Who’re we meeting here, again?” Luke asked.

Din looked at him, slightly incredulous. “I told you, Boba Fett.”

Luke gaped at him. “You were being serious?”

“I’m always serious.”

“That is tacitly untrue!” Luke laughed, still utterly baffled. “Are we talking about the same Boba Fett? Mandalorian bounty hunter Boba Fett?”

“Yes.”

“Shit,” Luke shook his head in disbelief. “I guess if anyone could have fought their way out of a Sarlacc pit, it would be him.”

Din hummed in agreement. He didn’t know the specifics of Luke and co.’s previous encounter with Fett, but he got the gist of it. Regardless, he mentally prepared himself for a less-than-friendly welcome for the Jedi. And himself, by extension.

—————

They must have been spotted as they approached the palace, because Fennec was waiting for them at the door. She greeted Din in her usual brusque manner, and only spared Luke a dubious raised eyebrow. However, she didn’t question his presence.

She led them to the upper level of the palace, where Boba Fett was waiting for them. He sat in the sturdily built throne, and sipped a glass of spotchka.

“Mandalorian,” he drawled as they entered. “It’s good to see you again. How is the Child?”

“He is well,” Din replied. “He has been reunited with his kind.”

“So I’ve heard.” Fett then turned his attention to Luke. “It’s been a while, Skywalker.”

“Yes it has,” Luke smiled pleasantly. His Jedi Master facade out in full force, Din noticed. “You’ll forgive me if I never expected to see you again.”

Fett huffed a dry laugh. “You and me both, Jedi. I’ll go ahead and assuage your fears now— there are no hard feelings between us. We were both just doing our jobs.”

Luke nodded politely. “I appreciate your understanding.”

“Solo, on the other hand,” he continued. “If I ever see that rotten smuggler again, I’ll freeze him in carbonite thrice over.”

It was Luke’s turn to laugh. “You’re not alone in that feeling, I’m sure.”

“Well, now that the pleasantries have been taken care of, what business do a Mandalorian and a Jedi have with me?”

“We need your help,” Din spoke. “There is a significant bounty on my head.”

“I’m aware.”

“It seems whoever commissioned the bounty is getting desperate.” Din continued, “the price has gone up significantly in recent days. And from what we can tell, I now have a veritable army of hunters on my tail.”

“I can see how that would be cause for concern.” Fett shifted in his seat, “and you want me to take care of that for you, somehow?”

“Not necessarily. We’re trying to figure out who’s responsible so we can head them off at the pass. There was a hunter here by the name of Movasi, according to our latest intel from two days ago. He claims to be tracking my bounty, and could potentially lead us to the source. We were wondering if you might’ve seen him, or heard about him at least.”

“The Zabrak? I couldn’t have missed him.” Fett scoffed. “He came in here only yesterday and tried to challenge me to a duel. But his bark is much worse than his bite, Fennec had barely so much as looked at him before he was scurrying for the hills.”

“He was here yesterday?”

“He’s still here today, as far as I know. I’ve heard he’s been frequenting a cantina in Mos Eisley most nights.”

Luke and Din shared a look.

“That’s very helpful, Fett,” Din said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Fett replied. “By the way, how is it going with the Darksaber? Has the princess broken down and challenged you for it yet?”

Din sighed. “No. She insisted I master it first.”

Fett hummed, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, when you do face her, do me a favor, would you?”

Din nodded and waited for him to continue.

“Make sure you know who you’re fighting for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movasi is a very hastily created original character, because I didn't know enough about Star Wars lore to pick out an existing character to fill the role I needed him for. Did I google 'Star Wars alien races' to come up with Zabrak? Yes. Did I use fantasynamegenerators.com? Also yes.
> 
> Based on my outline, I foresee two or three more chapters in this fic. I had no idea when I started that it was going to have near as much plot as it's turning out to have. All of y’alls feedback has been so wonderful like. My crops are flourishing, my cows are fed, my land is nourished. I’ve never been so motivated in my life.


	8. Part VII

The plan was to wait until after nightfall, and ambush Movasi after he’d had a few drinks in him. Fett offered for them to wait in the palace for sundown. They graciously agreed; it wouldn’t do to call attention to themselves before the time was right. Although, Din wasn’t feeling particularly worried about confronting this Movasi character. From what both Han and Fett had reported, the Zabrak wouldn’t take much convincing to divulge where he’d picked up the bounty. Or who from.

As the second sun dipped just below the horizon, they set out on the return journey to Mos Eisley.

Night had settled fully over the town by the time they arrived. Light spilled out of the sandstone buildings, illuminating their path in stripes as they neared the cantina. They were greeted first by the thumping sound of jaunty music, then by raucous laughter of nighttime bar patrons. After parking the speeder nearby, Din and Luke stood outside the door for a moment, and shared a look. 

The Jedi quirked a smile. Then he pulled his dark hood over his head, obscuring his face. “If you spot him, grab him,” he murmured quietly, in a voice just loud enough for Din to hear.

Din nodded. In a place like this, nobody really minded if you made a bit of a scene. So long as your business was taken care of quickly, and without breaking any furniture.

They drew a few eyes as they entered the cantina, but none belonged to their target. The two of them split up around the bar in the center of the room, so that together they could scope the whole place at once. Thankfully, they didn’t need to search for long.

Over the noise of music and chatter, a gruff, drawling voice stood out from the back of the room.

“—the Mando was so cowardly, he wouldn’t accept a challenge to duel! Took one look at me, I tell ya, and knew he didn’t stand a chance—“ 

Din spotted the Zabrak Movasi holding court in a booth toward the back of the establishment. He was flanked by four other individuals, who wore expressions of varying degrees of drunkenness and boredom. Despite Movasi’s enthusiasm, nobody seemed to believe he’d managed to intimidate a Mandalorian out of a duel.

“Ye told us yesterday,” a Klatoonian to his right grunted. “Nobody believes ye scared the pants off’a Boba Fett. Ye prolly didn’t even challenge ‘im correctly— a proper Mando doesn’t just turn down a duel.”

Movasi growled. “Boba Fett _is_ a proper Mando!”

“He’s not,” Din said. He stood at the head of the table, and five heads turned simultaneously to look at him. “But according to him, you hardly gave him a chance to answer your challenge. You were too busy running away.”

“Now _there’s_ a proper Mando.” The Klatoonian said, looking Din over appraisingly.

“What d’you mean? I’ve never run away from a fight in my life,” Movasi said.

“If that’s the case,” Din replied, “then why don’t you face me right now.”

Movasi blanched. “As in, ‘right now’ right now?”

Din just looked at him.

“Well, Movasi,” the Klatoonian chortled, “looks like now’s yer chance to prove us all wrong.”

Movasi, to his credit, took it in stride. He jut out his chin and climbed over his inebriated compatriots. When he finally stood up next to Din, he was a good head taller, and put quite a bit of effort into leering menacingly. “Where’re we doin’ this then?” He growled.

Din looked around him at the crowded bar. It was partly an act, and partly so that he could pinpoint Luke’s location. He spotted the Jedi leaning, for all intents and purposes, quite casually against a pillar on the opposite wall. But he knew that under the darkened hood, Luke’s eyes were glued to the proceedings with acute focus.

Din turned back to the Zabrak. “How about we take it outside?”

Movasi narrowed his eyes and reluctantly agreed.

They made their way to the empty street beyond the cantina’s walls. Luke followed closely behind, but stayed in the shadows. Once they were out of earshot from any lingering bystanders, Din decided to take a chance.

“From what I hear, you’re a bounty hunter,” he said casually.

“Yeah,” Movasi grunted, suspicion still written clearly on his face. He’d positioned himself a good few yards away from Din, with his hand poised over the blaster on his hip. “I even got a bounty for a Mando like you. But he carries some kinda sword. One’a them lightsabers.”

Din smiled ruefully beneath his helmet. The Darksaber was clearly clipped to his belt, but the Zabrak didn’t recognize the hilt without the glowing blade to accompany it. Just his luck.

“A lightsaber?” He said offhandedly. He reached to his side slowly— telegraphing his movements so as not to startle Movasi into shooting him— and unclipped the Darksaber. He held it out in front of him. “Does it look anything like this?” He clicked trigger on the hilt. The searingly bright, black blade materialized with a hiss.

Movasi’s eyes widened in recognition. The color drained from his face, “oh _shi_ —”

Din saw the barest flash of movement from the shadows. A stone flew lightning quick through the air, glinting once in the light filtered through the cantina’s window. In the next moment Movasi dropped to the ground, unconscious. Din retracted the Darksaber’s blade as Luke strode out of the darkness.

“Nice throw,” Din said.

“I didn’t throw it,” Luke smiled and wiggled his fingers at him. “I had no idea _you_ had such a taste for the dramatic.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Din replied flatly.

“Sure you don’t.” Luke looked down at their quarry, “we’d better get him somewhere a bit more private before he wakes up.”

Din agreed, and they worked together to drag the Zabrak’s inert form to the parked speeder. Once he’d been loaded into the back, they drove the short distance to the landing bay where the _Trident_ was docked.

By the time Movasi began to stir, they’d bound him securely with a length of electrical wire and sat him in one of the jump seats on the lower level of the _Trident._ Din and Luke stood at the open hatch, conversing quietly.

“I’m not sure I have anything to bargain with, except for money,” Din said. “And it’s not much.”

“Well, I suppose this was always the wrench in our plan,” Luke replied with a sigh. He watched thoughtfully as Movasi groaned and blinked lethargically, taking in his new surroundings with growing confusion. Luke turned back to Din. “Let me try something.”

Din watched as the Jedi stepped closer to the Zabrak. “Who’re you?” Movasi grunted, “where the hell am I?”

Luke brushed off the questions with a slow, deliberate wave of his hand in front of Movasi’s face. “You will listen very carefully to what I’m about to say,” he said in a soft, yet authoritative voice.

“I will listen very carefully to what you’re about to say,” Movasi repeated dumbly.

“I will ask you some questions, and you will tell me the truth,” Luke continued.

“I will tell you the truth.”

“Very good,” Luke said. He turned to Din with a smile, “this’ll work fine.”

Din realized belatedly that this was a Force thing. He nodded to Luke, who turned his attention back to their captive. He repeated the hand wave and spoke again.

“Did you take a bounty for a Mandalorian with the Darksaber?”

Movasi nodded, a glassy eyed expression still coloring his features. “Yes, I did.”

“Who commissioned the bounty?”

“A Mandalorian.”

Din froze. Luke paused his questioning to look at him, clearly uncertain with the proceedings. Din nodded for him to continue.

“Did you ever see them? Did they give you a name?” Luke asked.

Movasi shook his head. “Didn’t get a name. But she had pretty armor, kind of like his.” He gestured to Din, “‘cept it was blue.”

—————

They returned Movasi to the cantina. They watched from afar as he stumbled back inside to the jeers of his compatriots. It wasn’t until they got back to the _Trident_ , and had shut themselves in the privacy of the lower hold, did either of them speak about their recent discovery.

“I have to ask,” Luke said. “He was talking about Bo-Katan, right?”  
  


Din nodded.

Luke sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “that sucks.”

Din only nodded again.

After a moment, Luke approached him and gently took both of Din’s hands in his. “What’s our next move here?”

Din squeezed Luke’s hands briefly and sighed. “I guess I have to find Bo-Katan.”

Luke hummed. He gave Din a sly look. “I think you mean, _we_ have to find Bo-Katan.”

That drew an amused huff from Din. It also made a warm, bubbly feeling bloom in his chest. He leaned forward and gently bumped his beskar forehead to Luke’s. “What would I do without you?” he murmured.

“Oh, you’d manage.” Luke replied, “this would all just be a lot less fun.”

—————

The problem was, Din really _didn’t_ know what to do. Yes, the next logical course of action was to find Bo-Katan and confront her about the issue. But something about that didn’t sit right with him. Because surely, if he _were_ to confront her, it would end with a duel for the Darksaber. And a mere day ago, Din knew how he wanted that to go. They’d fight, he’d lose, Bo-Katan would fulfill her ancestral goal, and Din could go back to doing whatever he wanted without the crown of a ravaged world looming over him.

But now, he wasn’t so sure.

And the lack of a concrete answer made him wary. But he knew that the only way to call off the bounty— and by extension, keep Grogu out of harm's way— was to find Bo-Katan. Luckily, the last time he’d met with her she’d given him her personal comlink code. On the off chance, she’d said, he mastered the Darksaber anytime soon and could duel her properly.

So he settled into the pilot’s seat of the _Trident_ and dialed her up.

It took several long moments for a connection to be made. When Bo-Katan’s form finally crackled into view, Din thought she looked a bit haggard.

“What is it?” She said.

“I need to speak with you,” Din replied.

“You’re speaking to me now.”

“Yes,” Din suppressed an exasperated sigh. “I meant, I need to speak with you in person.”

“Can it wait? I’m incredibly busy. It takes a lot to rebuild an entire civilization, you know.”

Din rolled his eyes beneath his helmet. “Sooner rather than later is preferred.”

Bo-Katan turned away then, partially disappearing from her holo projection. She seemed to be talking to someone out of frame, but Din couldn’t make out what she was saying. After a few moments, she turned back. “Fine,” she said, “but you have to come to me.”

He nodded once, respectfully. “Very well.”

—————

Din was fully expecting a trap. Experience had taught him never to assume the best about a person, and now was no different. Luke, on the other hand, wanted to give Bo-Katan the benefit of the doubt. There _were_ other Mandalorians out there who matched her description, especially with the helmet on. There was a chance it was someone else vying for the throne of Mandalore who’d put the bounty out on him.

Regardless, Bo-Katan agreed to meet with Din the next day on the planet Kalevala, in the Mandalore system. She had apparently been using the planet as a base of operations— gathering weapons and soldiers— for the inevitable reclamation of Mandalore. 

Luke and Din spent the last few hours of nightfall asleep on the docked _Trident_ — they would leave for Kalevala in the morning.

Despite the fact that he’d done it several times now, Din still felt nervous about stripping out of his armor completely around Luke. He was definitely, absolutely certain he wanted to do it, especially since it meant he and Luke could sleep together comfortably, curled up together in the little bunk. It was just that, even with a full set of underclothes on, the amount of bodily contact between them felt a tad overwhelming.

“What are you thinking about?” Luke mumbled into his chest.

It was dark, and Din couldn’t see his face, but Luke was tapping a calming rhythm with his fingers right over Din’s heart. “I’m not thinking about anything.”

“Oh, please.” Luke chided warmly, “you’re thinking so hard right now I think there’s smoke coming out of your ears.”

Din chuckled. “I guess— I guess I was just thinking about us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Din sighed, and ran a hand up and down Luke’s back. “About how, I never expected to have this. With anyone. Especially not you.”

Din could feel Luke smile against his collarbone. “Why not me?” 

“I don’t know, you’re just— you’re so—” Din struggled to pinpoint exactly what he wanted to say. The feelings he held for the Jedi were so enormous, it felt impossible to distill it all down to a handful of descriptors. “Exceptional,” he said finally.

Despite the fact that he couldn’t see Luke’s expression, he thought he could picture the mixture of bewilderment and affection exactly. “ _Exceptional?_ ”

Din felt his face heat up. “Among other things,” he muttered.

“Exceptional,” Luke repeated, quieter this time and tinged with wonderment.

Din just squeezed his eyes shut and wished he could go back in time, just for one minute, to smack himself in the face. There were several more moments of silence in which Din mentally tortured himself with embarrassment, when suddenly Luke sat up. 

Before Din could move, Luke had planted their lips firmly together in a kiss more heated than any they’d shared thus far. It took a moment for him to catch up, but once he did, Din returned the enthusiasm twice over. It felt like someone had lit a fire in his chest, and he tingled with warmth all the way down to his toes. They kissed like that for several minutes, before Luke pulled away just enough to speak.

“I love you.” He said firmly, if a little out of breath. “I love you so much, Din Djarin, I want to know you for the rest of my life.”

Din released a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He gently traced the contours of Luke’s face with his thumb, mentally mapping them in the dark. Finally, after he’d unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, he said:  
  
“I love you too, Luke Skywalker.”

—————

The suns had just begun to rise when they departed for Kalevala the next morning. Peli mildly threatened Din into promising that he would come back soon with Grogu for a visit.

The trip was very brief— no more than three hours in hyperspace. As they dropped to sublight speed, the desert planet appeared below them. The _Trident’s_ flight nav computer tracked a path to the coordinates Bo-Katan had given them. Soon enough they were breaking through the atmosphere, and nearing the planet’s surface.

As they approached, they saw a small encampment. It was built in and around what looked like a long-abandoned settlement; the buildings were clearly a mismatch of old and new construction. However despite its bedraggled appearance, there was a veritable army’s worth of munitions and gunships visible from the air, not to mention what had been stored away— out of view. There were a few people moving about between the buildings, some in beskar and some not.

“This is quite a set up,” Luke murmured as they made their descent.

Din hummed in agreement.

Bo-Katan was waiting for them at the landing pad. She scrutinized them carefully as they exited the ship, her eyes catching briefly on the Darksaber strapped to Din’s hip.

“Who is this?” She said in lieu of greeting, and gestured to Luke.

“He is the Jedi who has been teaching the Kid. He also offered to train me with the Darksaber.” Din replied.

She hummed. “Yes, I recognize you now. I suppose I should thank you for saving us from those dark troopers.”

“It was no trouble,” Luke said pleasantly.

“I have a private space where we can talk,” she said, bluntly turning her attention to Din. “But the Jedi stays outside.”

He and Luke shared a brief look. “Fine by me,” Din said.

Bo-Katan nodded and led them away from the landing pad to a small domed building toward the center of the settlement. It didn’t have a proper door— just an old blanket hung over the empty doorway— but Luke respected Bo-Katan’s request and didn’t follow them inside.

It was a modest building, that Bo-Katan had clearly adopted as a command center of sorts. There was a table with a rickety chair sitting behind it in the center of the room. Unlabeled storage boxes were clustered and stacked up to three high around the perimeter.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Bo-Katan said once they were alone, “I would like to get this done quickly. I have business to attend to today.”

“Ok,” Din replied. If she wanted it to be quick, he could be quick. “Did you commission a bounty for me and the Darksaber?”

The expression on her face didn’t change at all, but he noticed her fists clench once, briefly.

“I did,” she replied.

“Why?”

Bo-Katan had the good grace to look contrite. “Not for the reason you think.”

“Then tell me,” Din said. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you put a significant bounty on my head, and in doing so compromised the safety of my Kid. I thought you wanted to win the Darksaber with honor.”

“Honor,” she said drolly. “That is precisely why I commissioned the bounty. You are an honorable man, and a talented warrior. You fight to your last breath when it comes down to it. And I respect that. It didn’t feel right for me to duel you for the blade, not if it meant I could possibly kill you.”

“So you put a bounty on my head, and hoped that someone else would take care of me for you.” Din said flatly. “Then once I was out of the picture, you could challenge whoever ended up with the Darksaber with no strain on your conscience.”

“I never intended you harm.” She tilted her chin up proudly, “I assumed you would simply hand it over to the first person who challenged you for it. Or at least throw the duel. It’s not like you care who rules Mandalore. As long as it isn’t you, right?”

Din felt his gut twist at that. Because that _wasn’t_ right. When he’d first acquired the saber, perhaps, but not anymore. He did care who ruled Mandalore, who ruled his people. It didn’t have to be him— in fact he still preferred that it wasn’t— but he wouldn’t give up the right to just anyone. Looking at her now, Din realized he wouldn’t just hand it over to Bo-Katan, either.

He came to a decision. “I didn’t give it up, and I’m here now. You may not like it, but you can duel me for the blade right here, or lose your chance at it. I won’t ask again.”

“It’s not traditional for the current possessor of the weapon to make the challenge.” Bo-Katan said, steely eyed. “It should be up to me.”

“It’s not traditional to sic a mob of bounty hunters on someone just to avoid the minor inconvenience of respecting their autonomy,” Din replied. “So I guess we’re all breaking boundaries today.”

Bo-Katan’s expression soured, and her jaw clenched like she was holding back an outburst. She took a moment to collect herself before speaking. “We’ll both need seconds, and a proper dueling space.”

Din nodded. “I believe that can be arranged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was So Fun to write. They just *clenches fists* love each other so much
> 
> Also I hope I’m not doing Bo-Katan too dirty, but she’s not my fave. I mean I’ve only ever experienced her in the Mandalorian, so I’m basing my characterization on that.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU again for the comments and kudos!! Y'all are so special and wonderful!!


	9. Part VIII

The agreement they came to was this: Din and Bo-Katan would duel at midday. In the interest of fairness, a scout had been sent to locate an appropriate place to hold the duel, that would hopefully not give either party an advantage. Bo-Katan chose Koska Reeves as her second, and Din chose Luke. Although, he had yet to  _ ask  _ Luke. Despite the fact that he was almost completely certain what the answer would be, his sense of chivalry and manners dictated that he ask regardless.

Onboard the  _ Trident _ , the two of them were rifling through the armory. Bo-Katan had also insisted that she and Din come to the duel fully armed.

He cleared his throat. “Luke, may I, uhm— may I ask you a question?”

The Jedi looked up from the blaster he was inspecting. “Always.”

“Will you be my second? For the duel.”

Luke huffed an incredulous laugh. “Of course, love, I thought that went without saying.”

“W—well, I’m saying it.” Din was only  _ slightly _ shaken by the casual term of endearment.

“And I appreciate it,” he replied sincerely. “I’ll be beside you, no matter what.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’ll only make a  _ few  _ nasty faces at Bo-Katan while she’s not looking.”

“ _ Luke— _ “

“While she’s not looking!” Luke threw up his hands in mock offense. “And, you know, if she happens to see me one time it’ll just be an unfortunate accident.”

Din rolled his eyes fondly. “I’m beginning to think I’m not the only one with a taste for the dramatic.”

“A  _ taste? _ ” Luke laughed brightly. “Oh Din, my love. You have no idea.”

—————

Between preparations, Din and Luke sent a message to Leia, informing her of the situation. Not five minutes after sending it out, they received an urgent call back.

“Bo-Katan commissioned the bounty?” Leia’s voice crackled with disbelief over the holo projector. “And now you’re dueling her for the Darksaber?”

Din cleared his throat, “it would seem that way, yes.”

Leia sighed, and shook her head incredulously. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Mandalorian. And Luke, how many times do I have to tell you. Keep me  _ updated _ .”

Luke, to his credit, looked genuinely sheepish. “Sorry, Leia. Between interrogating Movasi and travelling to Kalevala, there wasn’t much time to send a message.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Whatever you say.” Then, something just beyond the scope of the holo viewer seemed to grab her attention. She knelt down, flashing briefly out of focus, before standing back up, this time with Grogu in her arms.

Din’s heart leapt into his throat. It had only been a couple days, but he missed his Kid like nothing else. Just seeing his flickering, projected form made a warmth settle in his bones, and his chest ached to hold him.

“Hey, Kid,” he said quietly.

Leia lifted him up so they could see him better. Grogu smiled and reached forward with flailing, eager arms, like he was trying to grab their projections right out of the air. “He heard the sound of your voice and came running,” Leia said.

“How is he?” Din asked, “has he been eating ok?”

Leia laughed in a way that sounded hauntingly similar to her brother’s. “Grogu is doing just fine,  _ Dad _ ,” she teased. “Just today he showed me how to use the Force to grow flowers. He refuses to leave them in the ground, so the house will be full of potted daisies when you get back.”

Din thought he might cry. “Thank you, Leia,” he choked out. He absently felt Luke’s hand settle comfortingly on his shoulder.

“It’s good to hear you’re keeping up with your practice, Grogu,” Luke said. “I’m sure the house looks lovely.”

Grogu cooed in a pleased sort of way, and Leia said, “he wants to know when you’ll both return.”

“Soon,” Din replied. The Kid’s ears perked up, and he smiled. “I promise.”

—————

It wasn’t long after their check-in with Leia that they had to depart. Now that it was imminent, Din could feel his nerves ramping up in preparation for the fight. As he methodically strapped weapons to his person— and tucked a few into discrete gaps in his armor— he tried to focus on his breathing. He kept it steady and even, inhaling deep into the bottom of his chest, the way he’d seen Luke and Grogu do in Jedi training. It helped, a bit.

Just before opening the hatch, they stood facing each other for a moment. Luke was watching him carefully. Din knew that the Jedi couldn’t technically see his face, but he felt himself blush under the scrutiny regardless.

“So,” Luke said finally. “This is it.”

“I suppose it is,” Din replied.

“Do you know what you’re going to do?”

He knew what Luke was asking, but wanted to avoid having to provide an answer. “Try not to get killed?”

The Jedi saw right through the thinly veiled deflection. “You know what I mean,” he said gently. “Now that it’s finally come down to it, I hope you know how you want the duel to end. For  _ your  _ sake.”

Din nodded. “I know, I’ve— I’ve been thinking about it.”

Luke raised an eyebrow and allowed him a few moments to continue.

“I think I could do it,” Din said. “Rule Mandalore. If it needed to be done. I would.”

A warm smile slowly crept onto Luke’s face. “Then that’s all that matters.” He extended a hand and placed it gently on Din’s armored chest, right over his heart. “What you believe to be right, you will do.”

—————

The dueling grounds were not far from Bo-Katan’s base; just a short walk over the dunes. They’d agreed to meet just before noon. When the sun reached its midday zenith in the sky, the duel would commence. The two parties— Din and Luke, and Bo-Katan and Koska Reeves— made the trek to the grounds separately. Din couldn’t imagine any one of them wanted to brave the awkward nightmare of hiking together in tense silence. So when they finally did set out, it was just him and Luke. 

The late morning sun shone high in the cloudless sky. Its relentless gaze bleached the sand white, and was so scorching underfoot that the heat bled into the soles of their shoes. A whipping breeze kept the worst of it at bay, but kicked up clouds of glittering sand and sent it twirling about haphazardly.

Din had certainly fought in worse weather. But for a standoff of such significance he’d have appreciated slightly less torrid conditions. It was hotter than Tatooine’s twin suns in summer and despite the automatic temperature controls, it was a bit warm under his beskar. He couldn’t imagine how it felt for Luke— wrapped up in all of that dark fabric. At least he had the hood for a bit of shade.

Bo-Katan seemed absolutely unfazed. She and Koska Reeves conversed quietly a small distance away across the flat dueling ground. They seemed to be having a minor disagreement, by the way that Bo-Katan’s scowl was deepening steadily as she talked. After a minute Koska said something that Din couldn’t make out, and gestured in a way that seemed to conclude the dispute. She’d won, if Bo-Katan’s sour expression was anything to go by. To Din’s surprise, Koska then spun on her heel and strode across the short distance to him and Luke. She cleared her throat.

“As Bo-Katan’s second, it’s my duty to ensure the integrity of this duel.” She spoke mostly to Din, but every few words was accompanied by a disapproving glance at Luke. “That includes making sure that it’s as equitable as possible.”

She paused and looked as though she expected him to argue. He didn’t.

“You’re going to fight with the Darksaber,” she continued. “The only weapon that is equal to the saber is that pure-beskar spear.” She gestured to the weapon strapped to Din’s back. “As a sign of civility and honor, you will offer the spear to Bo-Katan to wield for the duration of the duel.”

Over her shoulder, Din could see Bo-Katan quietly fuming. “Does  _ she  _ agree with this?” He asked with a nod in her direction.

“I wouldn’t be standing here if she didn’t,” Koska snapped in reply.

Din sighed and looked at Luke. The Jedi seemed wholly unperturbed. When he noticed Din was looking at him, he shrugged and said “why not?”

Why not, indeed. Din released the spear from the strap on his shoulder, and held it out in front of him for Koska to take. “She’s welcome to use it for the duel,” he said. “But regardless of how this ends up, I want it back.”

“Of course,” Koska replied. She lifted the spear from his offering hands and stalked back across the sand to Bo-Katan.

“I don’t think she likes me very much.” Luke murmured once she was out of earshot.

“Who?” Din asked.

“Koska. I mean, I’m a second too, shouldn’t she have taken all that ‘equitable’ business up with me?” Luke seemed more bemused than genuinely upset.

“Well, I suppose she doesn't trust you. Jedi and Mandalorian are supposed to be hereditary enemies.”

Luke hummed. His face was mostly covered by his hood, but Din could tell he was smiling. “I guess you and I didn’t get the memo.”

They were interrupted then by Bo-Katan, who shouted across the short distance to get their attention. “It’s midday, the duel will now commence!”

Din made to turn away, but Luke stopped him with a gentle touch on the shoulder. He reached up with both hands and— a tad forcefully— brought Din’s forehead down to bump against his. Then he pulled away just enough to plant a smacking kiss above his visor.

“I believe in you, Din Djarin,” he said softly, eyes bright.

Din lightly touched the Jedi’s cheek with gloved fingers. Then Luke released him, and he turned to face Bo-Katan.

His heart rate picked up as they approached each other. The ground underfoot was sandy but solid, and the sun was directly overhead. Bo-Katan had donned her helmet, so he couldn’t see her face as they briefly clasped forearms. A show of respect before the duel could begin.

After a second they turned away, and Din began counting in his head. Ten steps— then he’d turn to face his adversary. No stopping it after that.

He’d spent a significant amount of brainpower thinking about this duel; about how he would act. He knew he couldn’t throw it. Bo-Katan would know— she was too experienced a fighter not to notice if he did— and she wouldn’t accept the victory. But he couldn’t avoid dueling her altogether. He had to do it, and he had to do so to his full capability. Which meant that, if it came down to it, if he saw an opening, he was going to take it. If he  _ could _ win, he would.

Din reached the last step, his boot heel crunching in the sand. He glanced up at Luke who stood a short distance away. The Jedi’s expression was inscrutable but intensely focused. In the last moment before he turned, Din poised his hand on the hilt of the Darksaber. It seemed to hum with an energy he’d never felt before— it flowed over him in a gentle wave, and a sudden sense of calm overtook him. It felt like a kind of poised anticipation for the coming battle. Like the saber itself knew that its fate hung in the balance.

Din turned and drew the searing, bright blade. Twenty steps away, Bo-Katan drew a blaster.

The first bolt rang out like a bell as it ricocheted off his chest. He deflected the second bolt with his saber. The duel had begun.

Bo-Katan was just as ruthless as he’d expected her to be, and twice as fast. Clearly an experienced combatant, it seemed that nothing he threw at her could faze her— except for the Darksaber. He realized quickly that his best bet was to keep her close, force her to use the spear in defense, and monopolize on his strength and experience with the blade. Because while Bo-Katan was fast, Luke was much faster, and Din had done nothing but train with him for the last month.

Bo-Katan picked up on his strategy soon enough. At first, she kept her distance with her jet pack. She’d land a few hits up close, then spring away and rely on ranged weapons. Din would maneuver his way into close-combat range, and she’d have to draw the spear again for a while. But she could always recover. So Din disabled her jet pack with a few carefully placed blaster bolts and the plume of his flamethrower. Once she couldn’t hop away, the balance of the duel shifted.

Time seemed to warp, as it sometimes did during a fight. The space between each blow seemed to stretch on forever, and yet the rhythm never slowed. Din caught Bo-Katan with the coil of his grappling rope. She countered with a deft slice of her vibro blade, and sent the knife twirling through the air toward him. He blocked with his bracer, and the beskar sent the blade flying with an echoing peal.

They soon grew tired— the Darksaber still sang in his hands, but it grew heavier with every swing. And Bo-Katan was getting sloppy too. Din allowed his defenses to slip just slightly. He could afford to take a few hits. More important was that the openings to strike became more frequent, and Bo-Katan was slower to block him.

Soon enough, he caught her off balance. He struck the spear from her grasp. It spun far out of reach and landed with a dull clang. Din poised the Darksaber beside Bo-Katan’s neck, at the vulnerable junction in her armor not protected by pure beskar.

They stood there in silence. For a few moments, the only sounds were the whirling desert breeze, their ragged breathing, and the hum of the Darksaber’s blade.

Then, Bo-Katan threw off her helmet. Sweat had turned her red hair brown, and plastered it to her forehead. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” she snarled, panting.

“But it is me,” Din replied, equally out of breath. “And I beat you fairly. With honor.”

She glared at him fiercely, and heaved another ragged gulp of air. “Fine. I yield. The rule of Mandalore is yours.”

She glared at him, eyes hard and jaw clenched. He retracted the blade and lowered his arm. Then, looking no less incensed, she gave him a nod and turned away. Koska rushed to meet her, and the two of them made to depart back across the sands.

Din watched Bo-Katan’s retreating form. He felt something strange twist in his chest, and a thought suddenly popped into his head. “Wait,” he said. 

Bo-Katan stopped in her tracks. She looked back over her shoulder at him.

“What?” She ground out.

“Rebuilding Mandalore— it’s been your dream, hasn’t it? To rebuild the home of our people.”

“And what’s it to you?”

“I don’t—“ Din sighed, “You’ve already done so much, I can’t take that from you. I won’t.”

A series of emotions flashed across her face. Din could recognize a few— curiosity, suspicion, pride, and unbridled rage. It seemed to him like she didn’t know how to feel. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I’d much rather work with you than against you.” He replied, “you know more about the history of our people than me. You know more about the planet. About how to run a society— how to lead. Just because you don’t have the Darksaber, doesn’t mean you can’t continue on the path you’ve chosen.”

Now, she turned to face him fully. It seemed as though the rage had won out. “So you want me to do the work of Mand’alor, without the honor of wearing the crown? While you go off and do— do who  _ knows _ what, and don’t lift a finger for our people? Don’t bother to help? I think not.”

“I  _ will _ help.” He said firmly, “I knew the responsibility involved with winning this duel. I wouldn’t have entered it otherwise.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If this is some kind of misplaced sense of charity, I’ll—“

He held up his hands placatingly. “I’ve maintained ownership of the Darksaber through an honorable duel. I’m merely trying to fulfill the duties that that entails.”

She huffed, still very clearly unconvinced. Regardless, she said, “fine.”

Din blinked. “Really?”

“What do you mean, ‘ _ really?’ _ ” She jabbed, “did you mean what you said?”

“I— yes, of course.”

“Then fine.” She reiterated simply. With that, she turned on her heel, and she and Koska Reeves departed.

Din stared after them blankly for a few moments. He had hoped she’d agree to his spur-of-the-moment offer, but he hadn’t expected her to do so so easily. It occurred to him then that he hadn’t looked to Luke at all during the exchange, and had no idea what sort of reaction the Jedi may have been having.

Luke, it turned out, wore an expression of such unbridled affection and pride on his face that Din nearly melted right there in his boots.

“What?” He said.

“Oh, nothing.” Luke replied, “I just think you’ve done something exceptional.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about how long it took me to get this posted, but I wanted to do it right!! I'm very happy with how it turned out.  
> There'll be one more chapter after this– coming soon!!


End file.
